


I went out to find my soul

by flightinflame



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, DGHDA Big Bang and Beginner Bang, Dirk Gently Needs a Hug, Dirk working for Blackwing, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Project Blackwing (Dirk Gently), Season/Series 01, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 09:20:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 52,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20189917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightinflame/pseuds/flightinflame
Summary: Agent Cjelli has been trapped in Blackwing ever since the Rowdy Four escaped, taking project Lamia with them. Being assigned a new case, in which a Patrick Spring has asked for him specifically, is his chance to prove to Blackwing that he is still on their side. Until he meets his future self, and his future self's best friend, and he's suddenly not at all sure which side he is on.





	1. Horizon

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go. This is my Big Bang for 2019, and the first time I've taken part in a full big bang!
> 
> Art by the talented solomandr here: https://solomandr.tumblr.com/post/186961007977/its-quite-of-an-achievement-you-know-the-one
> 
> Huge thanks to slytherinpirate for betaing, and to Hellz for organising this entire thing and being so supportive. Also thank you to everyone in the chat for their endless support during word sprints, and to Lynds, Lourdes, Reuben and TnC for their encouragement throughout!
> 
> This fic is split into sixteen chapters, with two for each of the eight episodes, following C.J. slowly working out who he is and what he wants to do.

Technically, Agent Cjelli (otherwise known as C.J.) should have been working on his reports from his most recent case. He knew that, and he had gotten halfway through writing them, but he had become too curious about what else might have been going on. That was one of the positives of being Colonel Riggins' favourite, a certain amount of leniency that other people weren't granted. And if that leniency was offered, only a fool would let it slip through their fingers.

C.J. didn't think he was a fool. Nor did the few friends he had managed to make, given the restrictions the Colonel deemed necessary to place on him. The only one he would currently count as a friend at Blackwing was Lt. Michael Assistent (the rather nervous secretary) and they were mostly only friends because C.J. had decided they were, and Assistent was too anxious to argue. Still, it was good to have someone who would spend time with him off shift. 

His best friend, Mona, was currently not within Blackwing. Officially, C.J. had no idea where she had gone -- or even, given her propensity and skill for hiding, that she had left. She could have been sat in a corner somewhere, being a pencil or a dust bunny or something else which was easy to overlook. But he knew she had gone. She had been taken by the Rowdy Four during the breakout three months ago, a breakout which had curtailed much of the freedom that C.J. had worked for over the past two decades. He missed her, more than he could easily say. So, left alone and with access to a computer terminal, he scanned through records for any hint of where she might have got to and what might be happening.

The phone in his pocket began to ring, and he fished it out to find that it was Colonel Riggins calling.

"Sir?" He answered the phone as quickly as he could, sitting up a little straighter as he returned his attention to his forms.

"I need to meet with you, now," the Colonel informed him, and the line went dead. C.J. rolled his eyes, but got to his feet, taking a moment to smooth his shirt down and make sure that the black waistcoat he was wearing hung neatly on him. He had a reputation in Blackwing for being a peacock, fastidious about his appearance, and there was some truth in that. Being allowed to wear suits that were tailored to fit mattered to him, so he tried to look his best. After over ten years of ill-fitting jumpsuits, having a uniform that looked good was important. People treated you with more respect if you looked good.

He exited his room using his fingerprint, and walked along to the Colonel's office, glad that he didn't have far to go. For now the corridors seemed mostly deserted, but he had no particular desire to talk to anyone today. There had been too much discussion he had overheard about his own desire to remain within Blackwing. That always irritated him, grating on his nerves. It wasn't as though he had anywhere else that he could go.

He knocked on the door, and entered when he was called, hoping that he would find the Colonel alone so that whatever the problem was, it could be quickly resolved. He tensed, a shiver running down his spine as he saw that Mister-Agent, he was an Agent Priest was sat on one of the chairs, lounging as though he was the one in charge. Beside him was Agent Curlish. She was at least in clean clothes today, which sadly wasn't a given. Only too often did he find her covered in other people's blood, and not even bothering to clean off afterwards. She annoyed him, especially when she couldn't keep her hands off what was his.

He tried not to glare at the other two inhabitants of the room, turning his attention to the Colonel. Riggins had taken him in, given him a chance to be useful. Unlike the other two people in the room, he was someone that C.J. respected.  
"Thank you for joining us Svlad. Take a seat."

C.J. did as he was told, sitting down smartly and waiting for the Colonel to begin. He couldn't think of anything he had done that was bad enough to get Agent Priest involved, and anyway Agent Curlish was normally off committing assassinations and whatever else Blackwing found to keep her from getting bored. He couldn't understand why they were there.

"Cjelli," Colonel Riggins began, and C.J. turned all his attention onto the older man. "I believe that we have a case that is well suited to your particular talents. I am therefore authorising you to go off base in order to solve it. These two will be accompanying you." He handed over a folder, which C.J. took eagerly.

He hadn't been allowed out unsupervised since the Rowdy Four's breakout, but that didn't mean he wanted these two with him. He felt a slight twist of guilt as he realised he would struggle to slip away from them as easily as he had taken time away from other supervisors.

"An unusual case this one. A man has told us he will be murdered, and has specifically asked for you to solve it."

C.J. opened the folder and began to read, the key details jumping out at him. The man, a millionaire named Patrick Spring, was convinced that he was about to be murdered, and requested C.J.'s presence. He hesitated, glancing up at Riggins.  
"I've already accepted for you," Riggins told him, and C.J. nodded.

"You leave in two hours. Go and read through the file, write out summary notes." The Colonel paused, his smile slipping into something that could best be described as indulgent. "And pack a suitcase. You might need to go undercover on this one. Dismissed."

C.J. nodded, picking up the file and getting to his feet.

***

Being allowed to pack a suitcase meant that for once he would be able to indulge in whatever he wished to wear, and that was a special treat. That showed he really was making progress on earning back the Colonel's trust. 

In his mind, he deserved that trust. He hadn't been one of the ones to slip away -- he had been given the option to leave, and turned it down, even if he hadn't exactly mentioned that. He doubted Riggins would see it as a demonstration of his loyalty -- instead he would be angry that C.J. had known they were going to leave, and not stopped them. Which honestly, wasn't his fault -- the three members of the Rowdy Four didn't listen to anyone, even on missions -- but he doubted it would be viewed that way. He quickly picked out a few colourful outfits, in case he wanted to go unnoticed by being almost too noticeable, and then chose some darker ones for a more subtle look. He folded the clothes neatly in his bag, and left it for someone else to take to the transport.

Now that he had packed, he was able to devote some time to reading the information he had been provided. The Colonel was clearly right about one thing -- this was very much his kind of work. A millionaire contacting Blackwing, and asking for C.J. by name? That was strange enough. But there were other things here, like the fact he had specified which hotel room they were to stay in. C.J. smiled when he noticed it had been requested that he got his own room. If they actually stuck to that arrangement, it might make things easier. Then Agent Curlish and her handler could stay up in their own room and have in depth conversations about murdering people in numerous horrific ways, or whatever it was that they talked about for fun.

He read through the information twice, making a brief summary so that he would be able to do some of his paperwork during the journey by providing an explanation in his own words of what his task was. Then he stood up, stretched, and headed down to the garage. 

He wished that Assistent was going to go with him, because C.J. actually enjoyed spending time with him. The companions he would have on this trip would definitely be much less fun. But he was still being permitted to go off base, and he was still getting the chance to investigate something, so he couldn't allow himself to get too angry or upset. Really, this was beneficial, and he should be grateful. It did sting slightly, that constant need to remind himself of the importance of gratitude, but that sting didn't make it any less true.

Curlish was already waiting by the car. She had changed out of her uniform into a hideously clashing green skirt and blue t-shirt, and C.J. only refrained from a comment about letting her dress herself because he could see Agent Priest approaching, a bag slung over his back. Agent Priest had his permanent sneer twisted across his face, and C.J. looked away from him, his gaze lingering on the door.

"You're sitting in the back Cjelli," Agent Priest informed him. C.J. didn't answer, but climbed in, as Curlish skipped around to the passenger side.

"Can I pick the music?" she asked Agent Priest, who looked at her as though she was a puppy that had performed a particularly interesting trick before falling over.

He patted her hair.  
"Knock yourself out, Bart."

C.J. gripped tighter onto the folder as he went to sit down in the back seat of Priest’s car. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that he was getting to go outside, like he had wanted, and that he had an exciting case. The drive would be long, but there was no need for him to acknowledge the other residents in the car. He hoped that they wouldn't acknowledge him either.

The car started up, and ahead of them a garage door opened. They were going on a case. C.J. smiled to himself.

***

The hotel they had two rooms reserved at, the Perriman Grand, was rather ugly, and C.J. would have said, if anyone asked. Of course, no one did ask C.J., but that didn't make his judgement any less accurate, or any less persistent, as they approached. He carried his bag, Curlish walking down the hall and almost bouncing, Agent Priest a few steps behind so he could take them out if either tried to run.

Curlish had a big bag on her back, which looked like it was probably full of whatever awful clothing she had selected. C.J. rolled his eyes, stopping at the room of the number he had been given. Curlish, who had raced past, turned around and walked back.  
"Hey! You didn't tell me this was the room!"

"It's not your room," C.J. said firmly.

"It's her room." Agent Priest stepped in, speaking firmly. "Because there's a twin room, and a double. Now, Mister Spring was quite clear that he wanted you in this one. But I don't want you on your own, in case you try and escape. So you share with her, or you share with me. What's it gonna be Icarus?"

C.J. cringed slightly at the use of his old project name.  
"I'll share with her, thank you." 

"Thought you'd be smart about it, kid. Well done." Priest laughed, handing C.J. the room key. 

C.J. pushed open the door, then glanced at Curlish.  
"Well, what bed do you want?"

"Can… can I have the one by the window?" she asked softly, as though afraid he would say no. 

C.J. shrugged.  
"Sure."

She grinned widely, and promptly jumped on her bed. C.J. rolled his eyes again, making his way over to his own bed and sitting down on it, glancing at the available space for the unpacking of clothes.  
"That wardrobe is mine," he told her. Curlish, who seemed distracted by alternating between looking out the window and flopping on the bed, put up no argument. C.J. went to unpack, pausing to examine the case file.

The entire situation was very strange, but he had to focus on the positives -- he was out, he was working, and he had a job to do. Everything else could wait until after the case was resolved. He could solve it, prove to the Colonel that he was an expert at what he did, and that he wasn't looking to escape. That all sounded like it would be good, he just had to ensure that it all happened according to his plans.

"Hey! Jelly! There's a big balloon in the sky."

"My name's not--" C.J. started, then sighed and made his way over to where she was standing. "Yes, that's a hot air balloon. The fire makes it fly."

"Does fire make other stuff fly?"

"No, I wouldn't try it," C.J. answered, smiling for a moment, and then going to sit down on the bed again, picking a book off of his bedside cabinet and flicking through it until he found the part he was on.

"You reading a story?" Curlish asked.

"No, it's a historical text about the work of the US government during--"

"That sounds boring." Curlish returned to looking out of the window, and C.J. reminded himself that sharing with Curlish was undeniably better than sharing with Agent Priest. 

They went out for dinner that evening, and C.J. sat quietly as the others spoke, lost in his own thoughts about what might be going on and what it might mean. That evening, he made sure he got the first shower in case Curlish somehow made a mess of it, instructed her not to eat the soap, and got into bed.

Something felt good, a buzzing in his brain that he couldn't really understand. Something was going to happen, and it was going to change everything.

***

C.J. drifted off after a while of lying awake, the presence of Curlish in the room strangely reassuring -- if anyone came in during the night to take him for testing, she might be able to stop them. That was a comfort. So he tolerated her faint snoring, because her presence kept him feeling safer than he could explain.

His phone began to blare, and for a moment his carefully maintained mask slipped, and he forgot that he was in the hotel, that he was working. He thought he was back there. He grabbed his phone, his heart racing as he looked around, blind panic in his eyes. He didn't know where he was. He was late.  
"I'm awake. I've been awake," he tried to persuade the person on the phone. Curlish grunted from her bed, rolling over. He tried to ignore her. 

"It's time," a voice he didn't recognise told him. C.J. glanced around. He didn't know which room was Agent Priest's, and didn't exactly fancy waking him up if he could avoid it.

"I’m on my way, that’s where I am, and almost there already, so everything’s great." He hung up the call, and grabbed a pen and paper from the nightstand. Quickly, he scribbled down a note.

"Got to go for work. Back soon. C.J." He hoped that Curlish might keep his disappearance quiet, but he also knew that he couldn't rely on her. She always had been Agent Priest's pet. He snorted slightly, pulling on a reasonably presentable outfit, grabbing the room key and stepping out into the corridor. He didn't know which way he was going, but he didn't need to. His feet seemed to know, taking him along a corridor and then up several staircases. 

He followed his hunch, silently cursing the universe for choosing to put quite this many stairs in his path. He paused for a breather, and then continued running up the stairs as quickly as he could.

He stepped out into a corridor, looking around, and immediately got knocked into by a man who was wearing a yellow jacket that he thought looked rather fetching. A second man, who was wearing a frankly hideous combination of fluffy coat and patriotic top, was staring at him.

"Yes?" he asked him, before helping the person who bumped him to his feet, and freezing at what he saw.

His own face stared back at him, and he tried to make sense of what was happening.

"Now, listen," the other-him said. "This hasn't gone to plan, but this is your best chance, alright? We can figure this out. Sunshine."

C.J. took a deep breath, looking at him in disbelief, hearing his own voice say the word that he and Mona shared, the one that was a signal to escape if they could, the one secret they had kept from Blackwing.

"Mona?"

"No," the man insisted. "Look, we don't have time for this. You need to sort this out."

"Who is that?" C.J. asked, glancing at the other man, because if he didn't focus on him then he would have to admit that if only two people knew, and that man wasn't Mona, then it was him.

"He's... He's your best friend, and hopefully he’ll forgive us for this. Listen, he's at the Ridgely building."

"Dirk?" the patriotically-dressed man asked, reaching out in confusion, but the other C.J. brushed him away. 

"We don't have time. Listen. Three questions, one answer. Get the kitten. Don't let the cameras see your face."

"Alright." C.J. nodded, his heart racing in confusion and fear. But he could do that. He could follow instructions and solve riddles, it was what he had always done. He grabbed the mask his other self shoved at him, and then raced towards the stairs.

Sunshine. The word echoed around his head. A call to escape, and from himself... But that wasn't something he could think about now. For now, the priority was getting to the penthouse, learning about this case, and fixing it.

He clambered higher still, then raced across the hallway and into a room that was full of blood. It was clear that whatever happened, he had gotten here too late to stop the murder. A small kitten meowed in the corner, and he picked it up, already wondering how he was going to hide it. He wasn't sure that Agent Priest was going to be overly pleased by him bringing a cat back. He patted her on the head, wondering what he could do now.

He guessed his other self had given one other clue. The Ridgely. He had nothing else to use, so that was where he would go. He bounced the kitten gently as he walked, making his way out of the hotel shushing her softly as she purred. She was warm, and she felt comfortable in his arms. 

He had never been allowed a pet. He wondered if maybe he could earn one, if he did well enough on this case. He patted her fur softly. "It's alright kitten. I'll take care of you." He paused, stopping a passing elderly lady who was holding a shopping bag. "Excuse me. Do you know where the Ridgely is?"

She nodded. "Just down the street there."

"Thank you Ma'am."

Kitten wriggling slightly, he walked up to the Ridgely. This felt good. Something on one of the higher floors was calling out to him. He shrugged, popped the kitten into his pocket, and clambered up the fire escape.

***

Bart woke up alone, finding that Jelly had left a note on the pillow. She frowned, reading the note carefully. Jelly had probably gotten a hunch as well. She shrugged and added a note of her own.  
"Took Priest's car. Back soon."


	2. Sky

C.J. took a moment at the top of the fire escape to get his breath back, and to look into the room beyond, where the window had helpfully been left open. Breathing a silent word of thanks to the universe, he clambered through into the room. 

He slightly misjudged the climb, slipping slightly and half-falling behind a counter.

"What the hell man?!" a voice asked, and he looked up to see the man that had accompanied the other him, looking back in confusion.

"Hi!" he greeted him, only for the man to throw a shoe at him. He blocked it on reflex, and as the man charged towards him he grabbed his shoulders, holding him at a distance so that he couldn't get too many blows in. He shoved him away, trying to look scary.

The truth was, C.J. had never exactly trained for fighting and self defence. However, he had spent enough time with the guards to know how to stand and look intimidating (although it would probably work bette if he was somewhat stockier). He tried to do that now.

The new man tried to push him back.

"What the hell?" C.J. parroted back at him. It appeared that this new man, his 'best friend' if other C.J. was to be believed, was rather aggressive about the entire situation. He couldn't imagine that best friends would hurt each other -- at least he hoped his best friend wouldn’t. He could imagine Curlish and her friends, or Incubus, punching each other, but that wasn't for him. 

"How did you get in here?" the man asked, and for the first time C.J. registered what an utterly appalling choice of clothing his 'friend' was wearing. First an American flag tank top and white fluffy jacket, and now something that looked like it would be worn by a cartoon soldier. None of this seemed very hopeful for the kind of person this man was. 

"The window, obviously." He pointed back at the window, making the mistake of turning his back to the new man. "Do you attack everyone who comes in here? It seems like a strange way to act, but then what would I know."

The new man was turning a frankly remarkable colour, that almost matched the red of uniform.  
"You can't just break into my apartment!"

"Clearly I can. The window was open and so it wasn't actually breaking--" C.J. tried to clarify. It didn't calm the man down. 

"I'll call the police." The man threatened, and C.J. felt himself freeze slightly. He wasn't meant to be out unsupervised, he knew that. He stepped forwards, taking the phone from the man and placing it on the worktop, distracting him.

"I'm trying to decide if you're a clue, an accomplice, or an assistant,” he explained, circling him, trying to work it out. He was fairly sure the man wasn't from Blackwing. He seemed too clueless for that. 

"Who are you? What is this?"

C.J. paused, trying to recall what had been told to him years ago, when the Colonel had first brought him into the project. "Have you noticed a series of intense and extraordinary events, each unconnected, with the exception of each being separately bizarre?" He'd put his own spin on the words, but the idea that something was strange, that the man who had found him could solve that strangeness, had been intoxicating to him as a child. He hoped it would work now as well. 

The man nodded slowly, and C.J. found himself smiling. "An assistant." That made sense. He could see how an assistant could be like a friend. "I knew it. My name is..." He hesitated. The other-him had been called Dirk. He'd need a surname. He thought of Mona, and chose the opposite of her name for his own, hoping that no one in Blackwing would make that connection. "My name is Dirk Gently."

"Get out." The man ordered. 

It was only as the door slammed in his face that he realised he hadn't heard the man's name.  
"You're a terrible assistant!" He shouted, heading down to the front steps. He pulled the kitten from his vest pocket, staring at her curiously.

"You know, I quite like him." He told her. "Not as good at listening as Moloch, or as funny as Mona, but he'll do for now. Maybe he'll be like Assistent and I can make him help me with investigations!" She mewled and wiggled her paws, so he put her back in his pocket, and wondered if he should head back. Returning to the hotel with the kitten was going to be a problem, but he didn't know where else to put her.

Reluctantly, he decided that she could stay in the en-suite of the room he was sharing with Curlish for now. At least there the kitten might be safe as he tried to persuade the Colonel to let him keep her.

He headed back to the hotel, taking the room key from his other pocket, one not full of kitten, and slipping back in. Agent Priest didn't meet him in the corridor, so he wondered if maybe he had gotten away with sneaking out. He pushed open the door of the room, and found that Curlish was gone.

He put the kitten on her bed, closed the door, and checked Curlish wasn't hiding under the bed or in the wardrobe. She wasn't. 

She had added to his note. 

He wished she had used her own paper, but he was determined to get away with his little adventure. He could tear off his note, crumple it, maybe add some water staining and no one would question that this was how Curlish would leave a note. He just hoped that Agent Priest would remember not to shoot the messenger about his car.

***

Bart couldn't help feeling a bit sad that Jelly had gone. He probably had a hunch or something, but she thought he could still have woken her up. She hadn't stabbed him at all, so he should be nice to her.

And he had taken the key, locking her in. She laughed to herself as she pictured a jar of raspberry jelly hopping off down the corridor with a key in it. She opened the door, and headed down to Priest's car. It opened, like it always did when she wanted it to.

She got in the car. Her hunch would take her where she needed to go, she knew that much. It was a long way to go, over to a big pile of water. She stopped, picking up her machete that Priest had left in the footwell. A man yelled at her, so she killed him, and looked around. There was another man, poking at a computer. He saw her coming and threw something, trying to run, but she ran after him.

He ran fast, so she stopped, catching her breath, and he did the same. "Please..." he begged. 

She looked at him, not getting a hunch now. "What?"

"Please...don't... kill me?"

"I wasn't going to kill you! Why did you run?" She asked the man.

"Because you have a machete, and you killed Red!"

"You could have just stayed still!" She glared at him. He was rude. But she didn't want to kill him. Normally, she had to not-kill people because Priest asked her not to. But Priest wouldn't know if she killed this man. She just didn't want to. She thought about it.

"Get up. You're coming with me."

The man hesitated, glanced at her machete, and walked with her to the car. She smiled at him. Priest would be able to help explain why her hunch had led her to someone she wasn't meant to kill, she was sure of it.

***

"And you let her go?" Agent Priest asked him. "When we've already had five of your kind escape?"

"I.. I was asleep." C.J. murmured, glancing down at the floor. "And I had nothing to do with the Rowdy Four leaving."

Agent Priest looked at him and shook his head. "I can tell when you're bullshitting me boy. Always have been able to. Anyway, you couldn't stop the murder and now this place is swarmin' with cops and you fuckin’ lost Marzanna."

"Agent...Curlish..." C.J. forced himself to say her name, to stand up for her. "Is a responsible woman. She'll be alright."

"She better be, boy, or I'm gonna see if we can send you right back to where you're from."

C.J. took a deep breath and continued. "I've got a lead on my case. I need to pursue it."

"Go. Check in every two hours," Agent Priest conceded, and C.J. practically ran from his sight. His heart was racing. For a brief moment, he considered trying to run, like his other-self had said. But there had to be more to it. He wouldn't get far, not now, he was sure they had a tracker in him or something, and anyway he had nowhere to go. He needed to follow up on his lead, and talk to the man that was going to be his best friend -- the man that thought his name was Dirk. If nothing else, he needed to find out what that man was called.

He headed back to the Ridgely, picking up some keys he found on the way. As he arrived, he found a shiny blue corvette which unlocked as soon as he pushed the button on the keys. He smirked, and that smile only widened when the man he was following (as a detective, of course, perfectly professional) stepped outside. He was carrying some kind of strange bag, but otherwise was dressed a little more sensibly than he had been before.

C.J. waved a hand in greeting. "Hi!"  
"What are you doing here?"  
"What are you doing here?"  
"I live here!" His new friend protested, clearly not in a talking mood. C.J. glanced between him and the corvette.

"Where are you going? Did you lose your job?" That kind of hopelessness was probably the only reason he would tolerate time with C.J., and C.J. planned to make use of it.

"I… How do you know that?"

"I'm a detective," C.J. said proudly, feeling himself puff up slightly with importance, the same way he had when he'd told the Colonel about his job. "I'm on a case. You worked at the hotel where the murders took place? That uniform…" He realised now why the man had been dressed so strangely. It was the uniform worn by hotel staff.

The man turned and walked away, his shoulders hunched up, and C.J. cringed slightly. He couldn't let him leave.  
"Where are you going? I can drive you."

The man looked at him in despair, and C.J. was suddenly sure that the red car which had been smashed up belonged to his friend.

"I'm going to my sister's house."

"I can drive you." C.J. pointed at the man's broken car. "You've not got much choice."

"It's an hour away."

"I can do that," C.J. promised. He would have time to get there and make his check in call. Anyway, it would give him time to talk to the man, and if nothing else learn what his name was.

The man considered, and then saw someone racing towards him. He ran straight to the car, eyes wide with fear, pulling on the door. C.J. got the car unlocked, and climbed in as the man yelled something about money being owed. "Dirk! Go!"

C.J. started the car, realising that for the first time, his new friend had said his name. Or at least, what he thought was his name, which was kind of the same thing.

He put some music on, and drove. He wasn't exactly sure how to drive, but he knew the universe would sort it out for him. "What's your name?"

"Todd," the man, Todd, told him.

"Well, it's good to meet you Todd." C.J. smiled proudly. "I am sure we will get on wonderfully."

Todd didn't answer, because he appeared to be too busy wriggling around in his seat and gripping both the ceiling and the bag. C.J. tried not to worry that his new friend wasn't very talkative - Moloch wasn't very talkative either, and they were still good friends.

Eventually Todd asked, "Who are you?" as C.J. swerved around another car. He smiled.  
"I'm a holistic detective. It's about the fundamental interconnectedness of all things, solving problems by tracing the ripples they leave. Not footprints and pocket fluff, but tracing the universe itself: It's complicated." He tried to think of convincing lies to stop Todd guessing his identity. "I'm not with the CIA." 

Todd gave him a very strange look. "So you're a detective who doesn't find clues. That sounds insane."

"The solution to each problem is detectable in the pattern and web of the whole," C.J. tried to explain, but Todd continued to look at him blankly, more worried about people in the road than interconnected causes.

He continued to try and explain. "I'm intrinsically connected to this case once I'm hired. I'll solve the mystery. I always do." He was careful to try and avoid Todd getting any idea that he might be 'psychic' because he wasn't that. He'd never been that. 

"Who told you to break into my apartment?"

C.J. thought of the other him, and swallowed nervously. "No one. I just was investigating for tangential reasons and had a hunch you would be important. And I was right."

"Oh?"

"There was nothing. Everything is connected. Nothing is also connected--" he stretched, and saw his watch. He was running out of time before check-in.  
"We should hurry up."

***

"It's good you came with me," Bart told her new friend. His name was Ken, which was a good name. She hoped Priest would like that name. 

"You were going to kill me if I didn't."

"You decided it would be better to come with me than to die. That was nice." 

Her new friend didn't seem to like her much more than Jelly did. She shrugged, and continued driving.  
"We should stop for gas. Got a hunch," she told him. He looked confused, but didn't stop her, which was good. Her hunch had come back, and she still didn't want to have to kill him. "Sit on the roof." He tried to argue, but she didn't listen. She came back with supplies of gummy worms after killing some people in the shop.

"Did you kill someone?" he asked her, looking scared. She shrugged.

"I'm an assassin. That's what I do. I kill people." Priest always said she didn't need to be ashamed of what she did, so she wasn't. She tried to explain being holistic to Ken, but he didn't seem to get it. She probably wasn't explaining it good enough. She gave him a gummy worm in the hope it'd stop him being so worried. "I never killed the wrong person," she reassured him. "I've killed a lot of people though.”

***

"Ring the bell," C.J. instructed, approaching Todd after he'd walked up to a small house with an overgrown garden.

"You said you were going to stay in the car!"

"I lied," C.J. answered. Whatever was happening, it was important, and that meant he should stay around Todd. He missed having a friend that could talk since Mona had left. He smiled as the door opened, and a young woman stepped out. She looked a lot like Todd, short and dark haired so C.J. assumed that this was Todd's sister.

They embraced, and she looked at C.J. as they pulled away.  
"Who is this?"

"Dirk Gently," Todd introduced him.

"Hi, I'm Amanda," the woman, Amanda, said. C.J. could still never get used to the way everyone outside had a name, wanted to share it. He smiled, and held out his hand to shake hers the way he was supposed to.

Todd slapped his hand away. "No." He glared. "Don't."

"Don't say hello?" Amanda asked, as confused by this breach of etiquette as C.J. was. "Are you friends?"

"No!" Todd said at the same time C.J. said yes.

"We're very good friends," C.J. explained. "We talked the whole car journey here--"

Todd hit him in the arm. C.J. rubbed it, even if it didn't particularly hurt.  
"You're a terrible assis-friend," he muttered.

"Come in..." Amanda interrupted, stepping back to invite them in. He walked inside, watching the news about his case from the couch as Todd and Amanda cleaned up. They were talking, and he tried to listen. Amanda was saying she didn't leave the house much, and their parents had no money. C.J. wished he could help, but he didn't have money.

"I don't want to be a burden on them."

"What's wrong with you? Exactly?" C.J. interrupted. She answered with a longer word than C.J. could easily pronounce.

"Of course, and what is that?"

"Who are you?"

"Dirk Gently," he lied, and it was becoming easier now, to use that name. The name he had been called by Todd, his friend. “I’m a private detective.”

"You don't look like a private detective."

"If I did, it would be harder to detect," C.J. answered. He glanced at his reflection in a mirror, pleased with how smart he looked. She shrugged, explaining about her hallucinations that felt real. In a way, it sounded almost like Mona's abilities.

"I'm sorry, that's terrible. But so interesting..." He was glad that she hadn't been scooped up into Blackwing as a child. It wasn't a power, just her mind thinking she had one, but he still felt some people might have found her intriguing. She said she was scared, but Todd had recovered, and that made him picture Todd in Blackwing. He didn't like that idea at all.

C.J. glanced at his phone, biting back a curse. He had missed check in. "Sorry, I've got to--" he ducked out, holding his phone.

"You're late," Agent Priest told him. "Got eyes on you. You're eating pizza. Found yourself a pretty girl."

"I'm sorry," C.J. whispered. "It's a case thing--"

"Uh-huh. Well don't take too long, you've got a lot of explanation to give." He hung up, and Dirk returned to the kitchen.

"Why do you stay in the house?" he turned and asked Amanda. "If it's in you... why do you stay here?" He frowned. It didn't make sense, why anyone would choose to be a prisoner if they didn't have to be.

Before she could answer, Todd sent her out to the garage, before coming over. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I'm on a case, and she looks like she knows what she's doing, so I'm checking. Is it so important you're not my friend that you want to argue?"

"You are insane. You have insinuated yourself into my life--"

"You insinuated yourself into mine!" C.J. tried to argue. Todd stormed off, and C.J. followed him.

While Amanda and Todd played music, C.J. sat and listened. He'd never heard music being played live before, but it was fun, right until Amanda started to scream. He ran over to help.  
"Back off!" Todd yelled. So he did, because this wasn’t fun when people were angry. He went and waited by the car, and then when Todd arrived he drove him home, sending a message to Priest that he was on his way back.

"You pay for her medication?" he asked Todd, when the silence had gone on for too long.

"I _did_. That was the last of my money. I have no money." Todd looked unhappy, and C.J. frowned. __

__ _"Why give her all your money?"  
Todd explained his parents had paid for his treatment, and he was passing it on to her.  
"It's good of you to help. If you help me, the universe will find a way to help you as well."_

_ _"I give her hope that maybe she can get better too," Todd answered, and he looked away._ _

_ _"Isn't there a chance she will? If you did?" C.J. asked._ _

_ _"Just be quiet. Please," Todd insisted, and C.J. obeyed. He wasn't sure he was getting any closer to Todd being his friend. He dropped Todd off, and went back to the hotel._ _

_ _***_ _

_ _Bart was sitting in Priest's car, smiling at her new friend. She picked up her phone and dialled Priest.  
"Hey Priest. Yeah. Yeah, I'm coming back, but you gotta... you come back and meet me, okay? I got someone... someone you gotta meet, but you have to find me. I’m by some trees."_ _

_ _With that, she hung up the phone once more._ _

_ _***_ _

_ _Agent Priest wasn't in the hotel when C.J. got there. So, he headed back to the Ridgely, just as some police came along. Todd was being taken away in handcuffs. He walked straight over to him._ _

_ _

_ _"Why are you in handcuffs Todd?"_ _

_ _

_ _"I don't... Someone shot and... my landlord... my landlord's dead and they--"_ _

_ _"Wasn't he bothering you for money?" C.J. suggested. "I guess that would be a motive--"_ _

_ _"Don't help them!" Todd protested. _ _

_ _"I'm curious what's going on!" C.J. argued. "And this might be part of my case."_ _

_ _"If you could come with us--" a man was saying, and before C.J. knew what was happening, he was handcuffed too. He rolled his eyes, directing the agent that cuffed him to the card Blackwing made him carry which gave a number. They could call that and things would be solved._ _

_ _They took the card, and he was put in a cell. Todd wasn't there, and he didn't like being here. It was smaller than his old room, and the bed was to one side rather than in the centre, but it still felt familiar, still felt wrong. He paced it out of habit, trying to fight down the sense of fear he felt._ _

_ _Agent Priest was his handler. He'd be here to collect him soon. He just had to wait, and then he would be free. He just had to stay calm, and remember that he was an agent of Blackwing._ _

_ _When the door to his cell opened, he was almost relieved to see Agent Priest standing there.  
"You've got to go back to the hotel. Marzanna needs me to get her. You stay out of trouble when I'm gone, do you understand me?"_ _

_ _"Yessir," C.J. answered, quiet as he followed him back._ _

_ _"Could have left you there to think about not making your check-ins."_ _

_ _"I'm sorry," C.J. mumbled. "Where's Marzanna?"_ _

__ _"She said there were trees. I'll find her," Agent Priest answered with a dramatic roll of his eyes. "Now, you be good, okay?"  
C.J. nodded.  
"So, this new friend of yours, Todd Brotzmann, and his sister -- seems they've got an illness in their family. Easy to trigger, and can be fatal. You won't be any bother, will you Svlad?"_

_ _"No sir." C.J. sighed. He hoped the kitten was alright._ _

_ _"You go and get back to the hotel. Picture by the window when you're back," Priest ordered, and C.J. nodded, hating the fact he still wasn't trusted by the man. He could do what he was told and then sneak out._ _

_ _***_ _

_ _Todd frowned when the cops released him, unable to believe how lucky he had been but not able to understand why. He left, only to find Dirk behind him. Dirk started to talk to him and he glared.  
"Shut up. Just go away. Someone died tonight, doesn't that bother you?"_ _

_ _"Not particularly. I've seen--" Dirk paused, and shrugged. "I've seen worse. Do you need a lift home?"_ _

_ _"No." Todd glared. "Dorian wanted the rent because I stole it for the medicine, and now he's dead. I didn't think he'd notice. Now he's dead."_ _

_ _"That seems practical to me," Dirk argued. "I know someone who has things like that happen a lot--"_ _

_ _"Practical!" Todd glared at him, furious. Dirk hadn't been there when it had happened. Dirk hadn't seen. "The police say that because of a ricochet he shot himself in the head."_ _

_ _"You're okay? You can still help me with the case?" Dirk asked, checking Todd for injuries. Todd shook his head, pushing past him and walking away, fury bubbling inside of him. _ _

_ _"I am not your Watson," Todd snarled at him. "My life is falling to pieces right now, and I do not have time for your case. I have my own problems." _ _

_ _"You've been making choices out of desperation for too long," Dirk told him, and his eyes were shining with unshed tears. "That's obvious. You're trapped in a corner and you have to break the pattern. Take control of your life Todd. Interesting things will happen. I guarantee it."_ _

_ _Todd snorted and walked away. He didn't have time for Dirk's bullshit. He got on the bus, heading for home._ _


	3. Lost

C.J. stood on the corner of the street for a minute, watching Todd retreat. In his heart, he knew that Todd didn't realise that it was risky for him to be here -- that he was breaking a direct order to spend time with him. But Todd's dismissal still hurt, made worse by the simple fact that he didn't know why. He had told Todd what he longed to hear, had offered both of them the chance to break out of the cycle they were trapped in, and he had been denied.

He headed back to the hotel, hoping he hadn't taken too long and caused Agent Priest to grow suspicious. He moved around Curlish's bed, taking a photograph of himself with the view behind him, and hitting send, before heading into the bathroom.

The kitten had somehow managed to knock one of the taps, and was sat quite happily in the dribble of water. She mewed at him as he walked in.

"You're not meant to be damp," he told her firmly, picking her up and drying her on a towel, cringing a little at the black hair left on the white fabric. "You are meant," he told her gently but firmly, "to be behaving when I'm out." 

She didn't acknowledge him, so he laughed softly.

"Yes, I know, you don't care. Only you should care, for your own sake if nothing else, people will worry if they don't know what you are doing, and that could end badly for you." He sighed. "I guess I'm not talking to you about being a cat any more. I should be, but... well, I don't know much about being a cat. And I do know a lot about being a person, even if I'm not always very good at it." He sat on his bed, the cat on his lap, and patted her softly. "I met my best friend," He told her in the silence of the room. "And he doesn't like me."

His phone buzzed, an acknowledgement of the image, and he could relax for a little while. As far as Agent Priest was concerned, he was where he was meant to be, and currently it was Curlish that was misplaced, and C.J. was officially behaving.

The kitten on his lap was warm, and he wanted to hold onto her, but when his phone buzzed again he returned her to the bathtub. He looked at the screen and found it was a private number. He sighed, returning to the window and scanning the street below for any sign of surveillance. There were no suspicious black vans glaring up at him, nothing other than the noises of distant traffic, and a low growl.

He rolled his eyes, changing into some of the more subtle clothes he had brought with him. It wasn't like he could give an answer if anyone from Blackwing found him outside -- he doubted needing some air would be considered acceptable.

Pulling the hood of his jacket up over his head, he walked down to the hotel lobby. His heart raced as he glanced from side to side, but Agent Priest was miles away dealing with whatever mess Curlish was in, and he was alone.

He headed out into the street. If Agent Priest asked, he would lie and say he just wanted to step outside -- it wouldn’t work, but it was better than admitting the truth. He was risking a lot here, and he could already feel his heart racing, but that was the point. He didn't want to be here, but if he had it wouldn't have worked.

He turned down an alleyway, listening for the steady rumble of the van. It rounded the corner, and he could feel his pulse leaping beneath his skin as he saw the damage to it, the four emblazoned in red on its side and bonnet. 

He had never trusted Incubus. Not as a child, and not now. They were too loud, too troublesome, too disobedient. Three dogs straining at the leash, yapping and snarling and longing to twist around, and tear into their owner. They had always frightened him, but the Colonel had said he could control them, to keep the three of them in check with rewards and understandings, and for a while it had worked. The fury and hunger had bubbled beneath the surface, hidden behind cold smiles and ice blue light.

Until a day that the leash had been left a little too long, and they had slipped it, fleeing Blackwing, taking Mona, and ruining the reputation that C.J. had spent a lifetime building.

The van bumped against a skip with a screech of metal. C.J. had seen it often enough, knew no damage would be done. He took a deep breath, bracing himself as the doors opened and the shouting began.

The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him. As a child, he'd feared Incubus. They had been a punishment, a threat -- kept hungry enough that they would feed. Now, he was no longer that cringing child in an ill-fitting jumpsuit, and yet they were still a constant. His cell was gone, and so was the itchy fabric and the testing, and yet they were still here.

He closed his eyes, because it helped at times like this, to put himself back there. Eight years old and barely able to understand what he had done wrong, as shouting started. He was shoved backwards against a wall, and something slammed beside his head. He couldn't help gasping in terror. He pictured Mister Priest walking around the corner, the trouble he would be in for being a traitor, and he bit his lip to hold himself back from crying out. His arms gripped at his sides, and he opened his eyes, just for a moment.

Three faces snarled in at him, and then at a nod from the leader blue light started to flow from him. He closed his eyes again, concentrating on his fear until the last dregs of it were lifted, and he slumped forwards from the wall.

It was Martin who caught him, lowering him to the ground and ruffling his hair.  
"Thanks kid," he muttered, and C.J. shrugged. He hated the three of them, but he knew it wasn't their fault that they were hungry. If they weren't going to draw attention, then they couldn't feed on normal people -- and anyway, it could kill some stranger. C.J. didn't particularly care about other people, but he didn't want to kill anyone if he could avoid it.

Martin pushed something into his hand, and it took him a moment to realise it was a chocolate bar. C.J.'s hands were shaking so much that it took him almost three attempts to tear open the wrapper, but he got the food to his mouth, and the sugar began to ease his exhaustion a little.

He looked up to see that the other two -- Cross and Gripps, he had asked their names when they escaped -- were returning to the van, full of his energy. He saw the threads of it disappearing into the recess, thought of vampire bats returning home full of blood to regurgitate into the mouths of those that couldn't feed.  
"How is--"

"He's getting better," Martin muttered, then held out his baseball bat. "Someone wanted to see you." He dropped it to the ground.

Warm arms wrapped around C.J.'s shoulders, and he leaned in to rest his head against her.  
"Mona," he breathed.

"Did I scare you when I hit the wall?" she asked nervously. C.J. hesitated, not sure what was going to be the correct answer to that. 

"You did, but only because I didn't realise it was you."

That seemed to be the right answer, judging by her smile. He held onto her tightly for a few more moments.

"Are they taking care of you?"

She nodded. "They let me be whatever I want to be. I like being Martin's baseball bat because he spins me in the air and it's fun!"

"I'm glad," C.J. told her honestly. "I miss you, but... I want you to have fun."

"I miss you too." She cuddled up to him, and he paused, glancing at Martin who looked down at him coldly.

"Look, I met this girl... she's called Amanda Brotzman. She's... she's got an illness, and I know her brother worries about her. She's over by--"

"She's over by that red and white store," Martin interrupted. "I smelled something over that way earlier, with you. Was gonna ask."

"Do you think you could keep an eye on her, Mona?" C.J. asked.

Mona nodded, and a moment later there was a baseball bat on the floor, which Martin picked up, spinning it through the air.

"You better go now, Blackwing boy," Martin growled. "Don't want anyone noticing you skipped out."

C.J. cringed, getting back to his feet.

"See you around, snack." Martin grinned, and there were too many teeth. 

C.J. took a deep breath, and walked away, careful not to run. He didn't want Martin to know he was scared. Deep down, he knew Martin could smell his fear. But Mona seemed happy, and that was something.

He made his way back up to his room. There was no sign of Curlish, or of Agent Priest. He went to sit in the bathroom, fishing the kitten from the bath and cradling her against his chest.

****

As early morning light filtered through the curtains, Amanda stared at her phone, wondering when it would be acceptable to call her brother. She didn't want to bother him, hated the fact that she was a burden. Todd had always managed his illness without complaining, needing nothing more than the money for pills -- and she felt helpless. She needed so much from him, his constant reassurance and hope. Her house was a mess, her illness frightening her away from trying.

She was bored, and her life sucked. She missed being healthy, missed going outside and not feeling this constant terror - and knowing that the terror was most likely going to trigger an attack.

She hesitated, before dialling him. Todd had been busy. She wished she had had the foresight to get Dirk's number -- then she could bother him instead. She considered, and decided that would be a good plan, messaging her brother for Dirk's number. Dirk seemed to like talking. She didn't want to overwhelm him, but it would be good to hear from someone else. Especially when Dirk had given her something to think about. There was no real reason for her to stay inside, he was right. It might trigger her attacks to go outside, but being inside did that as well.

She had cut down anything that triggered her attacks, and cut down and cut down, and now she had nothing and still the attacks kept coming. She should go out into the world, but she couldn't. It was too much, too many dangers at once.

She headed outside to smoke. Her front yard was as far as she could get, because it would be dangerous to smoke inside. If she had an attack, she might drop the joint, and then it could burn the house. Outside she could throw it to the ground, and stumble back in. She checked her pills, and headed out, fumbling with the lighter one handed.

A van, covered in graffiti, was parked down the street. As she looked, it rolled closer towards her. She backed away, heading inside, dialling Todd. He didn't answer. She stared at the phone, wondering what message she could leave. She couldn't explain what was happening, so she hung up the phone. She went to do her makeup, but her hand was shaking. She suspected if she tried, her mascara or eyeliner would transform into something else. Reluctantly, she put them down.

If she had Dirk's number, she would have called him about the van. But he wasn't there, and Todd couldn't get here in time, if there was danger. She gathered all her strength, walking down to the garden and grabbed a rock, throwing it towards the van. It was a pointless gesture, she knew that, but she didn't want them thinking she was scared. Even when she was.  
"Go away!" she yelled. It was cold outside. Too cold. She could feel her fingers beginning to freeze. 

She ran back inside the house, fumbling for her pills and going to the kitchen sink, grabbing a glass of water and downing the tablets, watching the ice that was still slowly spreading up her arms. She curled up on the floor, sobbing in pain and trying to breathe through it.

There was the sudden sound of broken glass, and she got to her feet, stumbling through into her living room to find a brick in the middle of the room, surrounded by shards of glass. She wrapped her arms around herself.

****

Bart smiled over at Ken as her car stopped. She wasn't near Priest yet, but she'd been suspecting it was going to break. So it stopped, and she sat there waiting.

"Aren't you going to fix the car?" Ken asked her. 

She looked at him in confusion, and shrugged. "It'll start again when it's meant to. Cars are like that. Always turning off and on again."

"No... no they aren't." He looked at her in confusion. She thought it was good he was confused. It was nicer than when he was scared.

"No one's looking for you Ken. No one's called. It's just you and me."

"Someone will," Ken insisted, as though that would make her change her mind about killing him. "Someone's coming. Look, I don't know why I'm here. I'm just an electrician."

"You know, that's the most a stranger's said to me in years. Mostly aside from Priest it's just... screaming and begging. Nice to listen to someone talk. No one's coming though. Not anyone who's not meant to die."

In the distance, she could hear the sound of a vehicle approaching.

***

C.J. woke up to the kitten licking his face, finding that his back was cramped from falling asleep in the bathtub.  
"Ew."  
He pushed her outside the tub so that he could shower, and she started to mew at him, louder and louder. With a sigh, he picked her up and placed her in the tub, expecting her to attack his ankles. Instead she began to purr.  
"You're a weird cat," he told her. She didn't seem to mind.

He finished washing himself and pulled on some more clothes, wondering what Todd's best friend would wear. Probably something dark and grumpy, but Todd needed some brightness in his life, so he went for that instead, pulling a yellow jacket on. Brightness for Todd, and sunshine for him. It was what they both needed.

As soon as he had finished dressing, his phone rang, and he answered it to hear Todd's voice. C.J. smiled a little to listen to him. "Yes?"

"Well… Dirk, I think you'd better come and meet me. Something weird happened last night. And I think it's... It's connected."

C.J.'s heart soared at that, and he got an address from Todd. This time he sent a message to Agent Priest, letting him know he had gone to handle some case work. When there was no instant response, he checked the messages he had been sent and then headed out to meet Todd.  
"So," C.J. greeted him. "They know what killed Patrick Spring."

"Oh?"

"A great hammerhead shark. They're not normally aggressive towards humans."

"They aren't normally in hotel rooms either," Todd muttered, and C.J. shrugged.

"Thank you for contacting me Todd, you really are an excellent assistant. What was it?"

"I'm not your assistant," Todd argued with a smile. "It just seemed the right thing to do. I saw Lydia Spring."

"You... it is connected. You are connected to the case--" C.J. argued.

"I just found a dog."

Todd walked off, and C.J. looked after him.

"Where are you going? You're unemployed."

Todd hesitated, and then walked over to him, pulling a scrap of paper from his pocket.  
"I found this in the hotel. It's... it won. Only ten grand, but Amanda's medicine, I can fix my car--"

"Is that blood?" C.J. asked. He had definitely seen enough of it to recognise it.

"Maybe. I don't--"

"But don't you see?" C.J. interrupted him. "It's not a coincidence. The universe is paying you back for helping me! You can buy what you need with this, can't you?"

"Are you taking credit--"

"A little," C.J. agreed, as a man drove up to the house they were watching. "That's the man?" C.J. asked. He had a good feeling about this. Mind made up, he grabbed Todd's ticket and ran into the garage, Todd following close behind. 

The garage door closed behind them.

The garage was full of merchandise for some ageing rocker. C.J. took a closer look as Todd scrambled for the car clicker.  
"Who--"

"Lux duJour. He disappeared. Now give me back--"

"I will when we finish our investigation," C.J. answered, sneaking through the door. The house beyond was full of boxes. The man was on the phone, talking about some giraffe that tried to murder him. He ignored it, creeping forwards with Todd beside him.

A teenager appeared, and C.J. recognised her instantly. She was Lydia Spring. She looked at him, tilted her head, and licked his face, before letting out a strange noise. He grabbed Todd, the two of them rushing through into the bathroom.

Todd stared at him.  
"That was--"

"That was Lydia Spring. You were right," C.J. confirmed. "That's a huge breakthrough. I'm sorry if we die. Well. If you die. The universe tends not to kill me, but..." He sighed. "I do rather like you. And it did appear that man was armed."

"I'm going to die?!" Todd asked.

"It's my fault." C.J. sighed, and Mister Priest's words echoed in his head. People always got hurt, people always died, because of him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I got you involved, and I'm sorry I stole your ticket. It was messed up."

Todd glared at him, and then looked at the window.

Lydia crawled over towards them, whimpering and pawing, a toy in her mouth. After a moment, C.J. took the toy and threw it, desperately trying to distract her. She came back, so he dug through his pockets until he found a business card, throwing that as well. There was the sudden smell of smoke, and Lydia started to bark. Todd had got out through the window, taking the shower curtain with him. A dog bit onto C.J.'s ankle, and, aware that he kept stealing pets, C.J. grabbed it.

The man walked towards him, holding a gun, and a shot went off. C.J. slammed the door, and clambered out, the dog held against him. He ran down the road, in the direction his hunch told him that Todd had gone.

It didn't take long to find Todd. He was hiding in an alleyway, still tangled in the shower curtain. C.J. walked over.  
"I've got the dog." 

"Why?"

"It's important. Lots of animals. Dog, kitten, shark--"

"How did you know about the shark?"

"A guess?" C.J. muttered, looking around nervously. He definitely couldn't explain it if Colonel Riggins walked up to him at that moment. Colonel Riggins always said C.J. shouldn't do anything he couldn't explain, but hunches didn't work that way.

"I... I give up. I quit. I've done everything I can." Todd yelled, pacing back and forth.

"You... quit?" C.J. asked. "You can't quit." Todd was meant to be his best friend. He couldn't leave.

"You made me break into a house, and someone shot at us."

"He shot at me. Anyway, look, we found her. It was very suspicious. He called the human Lydia ‘Rapunzel’." C.J. paused, looking over at the dog. "Are you Lydia Spring?"

The dog started to bark, and C.J. grinned triumphantly. 

"So what's your theory?"

"Dog hypnotists? I'm working on it," C.J. argued.

"Look, Dirk. She wanted to be there. She seemed happy. If you're worried, call the police. I want to go and cash in that lottery ticket, and I'm already in trouble. I'm done with it." He walked off, and C.J. flinched.

"You... you think I like this?" he asked.

"You're a detective. It's your job."

“Because I'm trying to do the right thing, Don't you understand. It's always all these horrible things, and I get dragged right up next to them." C.J. walked over towards him, willing Todd to listen, to stay.

"You can just walk away. Take what he paid you."

"I can't. They wouldn't- and anyway, I can't leave," C.J. tried to explain, only just holding himself back from mentioning Blackwing. "The world will lead me where I need to go, I'm a leaf in the stream of creation, right up until I find whoever or whatever killed Patrick Spring, and then it will just... take me somewhere new."

"Then why say that crap about taking control of your life?" Todd asked.

C.J. smiled sadly, thinking of the answer he had told Mona when they'd talked about their testing.  
"Just because you know you're playing a game doesn't mean you can’t choose your moves. I'm the only one who can do this, who can help these people. Even when it's hard, that has to be… worth something." His phone beeped, and he picked it up, looking at it curiously.  
There was a picture of a woman there, and a simple message.  
_We have your friend. Give us the dog or we kill her. Eastgate Bridge. Midnight._

He showed it to Todd.

"Who sent that?"

"I assume the bad man?" C.J. argued.

"Why does he have your number?"

"I threw a card to Lydia. That way she could contact me--" C.J. pointed out. "Do you know this woman?"

"No."

"I was right. The dog is important." C.J. tried to smile. He hesitated, glancing at his phone, and then decided that it would be better to update Agent Priest about his situation.


	4. Found

Amanda stared at the brick, trying to understand why it was there. She looked towards the window, saw the van there. She turned back, and suddenly there was a woman standing in the middle of the room. 

The woman was wearing a black jacket over a white dress, and was swaying slightly, a bright smile across her face.  
"Hello!" She waved both hands enthusiastically. 

Amanda stared. Her hallucinations didn't work like this. She knew they didn't work like this. There was still a woman there, barefoot, and surrounded by broken glass.  
"Do… do you… shit, do you need some slippers?" Amanda managed to ask, and the woman shook her head.

"Are you okay? You were screaming when you were outside." The woman's voice was soft, almost musical. 

Amanda took a few slow deep breaths, then nodded.  
"I'm okay."

"That's good. I want you to be okay." With that, the woman turned, and Amanda noticed she was wearing big heavy boots. She skipped out towards the door, leaving Amanda standing there in shock.

Amanda looked at her door, then at the glass on the floor, now devoid of brick, and then back at the glass. It was fucking weird.

She wondered how she was going to explain this to Todd. It was probably better to do that face to face, where she could see his expressions. And Dirk said he specialised in dealing with this kind of weirdness, so maybe he could help.

She looked at the pile of glass, wondering what to do now. Going too near it could cause an issue if she had an attack, but she couldn't just leave the broken shards there. She took a deep breath, and headed into the kitchen to get a dustpan and broom, telling herself that she could at least practice drumming after she had cleaned up.

***

The biker that had stopped had been looking at their car for a while. Ken paused, glancing at his captor and wondering why he was thinking of it as their car. It was hers. Her car, that she had trapped him in. The man waved Ken over, and Bart grunted her agreement for Ken to go over. 

The man explained the problem, and Ken looked at him curiously. He had been kind, stopping to help the two of them when they had been desperately in need of assistance and taking the time to repair the car. 

Bart was going to kill him. He had helped, and for that Bart was going to murder him. He asked the biker for a cab, but the biker just said they were somewhere quiet, somewhere people might die. Bart had realised they were talking, coming over, and Ken could see that her clothes were still soaked in blood.  
"You won't die," he told the man nervously. "No one here will die, it's fine." Bart was getting closer, and he swallowed, backing away from the man and walking towards her instead, wondering if he could ask her not to kill someone who had helped them. She had spared him, so there was hope. Assuming him asking for the biker's life didn't put him in danger. 

"Thank you!" Ken yelled to the man, walking over to Bart who laughed in his face.

"A cab? Really?" She held out some food, and he snatched it hungrily, glaring at her between bites. 

"I haven't eaten for a day," he reminded her, and she shrugged.

"Sometimes I don't. I forget, when I work--"

"You're really an assassin?" he asked quietly, wondering if he could distract her from his half-hearted escape attempt. 

"Yeah. For the Universe, and for Blackwing. It's a place for people like me."

"Other… there's other people like you?"

"Yeah. There's me, and there's Icarus, Jelly -- he's kinda a dick. And there's Priest, and--" she paused, and sighed. "Some of the others left, which sucks, because now I miss them. They used to be loud."

"Other assassins?"

"No. Weird. Different. Jelly's a detective." She shrugged. "Got different purposes. Do what we need to. Go where we need to go, the universe takes us. I'm a leaf in the stream of creation. Until I find my target, and then I'm a piranha in the stream of creation." She paused. "I should kill that guy."

"Wait."

"Why?"

"We can't murder him." He told her desperately.

"What?" She frowned.

"He's helping us," Ken argued, and Bart rolled her eyes but sat down.

The man finished fixing the car, and Ken made his way over to him.  
"You should run,” he said.

"What?" The man laughed. "You do realise I'm taking the car. You're the tenth couple we've found out here--" The look in his eyes made Ken's blood run cold, and suddenly he wondered if Bart had had a point after all. The man continued, and Ken felt afraid.

"You're the one in danger," Ken warned, one last try, and the man was reaching for a gun.

"Can I kill him now?" Bart's voice startled him and Ken nodded quickly. The man started firing, and Bart ran forwards, grabbing the gun as he tried to shoot.

Ken looked away as she beat him to death.

“Hey, Ken!” She called out. Ken stared at her, as she picked up the gun, laughing to herself, demonstrating that it didn't work on her. She dropped the empty gun to the floor.

"You dodged a bullet--"

"Bullet dodged me. I'm special. Can't be hurt."

He couldn't understand it. None of it made sense.  
He tried to work out a question, when he heard another car in the distance.  
"Is that... is someone else coming for you to kill?"

"Nah." Bart shrugged. "That's Priest. You're gonna like him I bet."

***

All in all, Agent Priest hadn't been very impressed at the edited highlights of what had happened that C.J. had shared. He had very carefully not mentioned the fire. Or the fact that he had given his card to the man they were fighting. And he definitely didn't go into detail about Todd. He had explained, however, that they would be meeting at a bridge, and that he needed to exchange a dog for a woman. 

He had expected that Agent Priest would come with them.  
"I've got my hands full Icarus. Not everything revolves around you. You get it all sorted and report back in by two, you hear me?"

"Yes sir," C.J. murmured into the phone, his heart racing slightly. He didn't _want_ Agent Priest there when this happened, he didn't. But he would feel a bit safer. 

If Agent Priest wasn't going to be there, then he would have to handle it. He headed to the hotel, grabbing a couple of Curlish's knives and a stab-proof vest, and feeding the kitten.

He met up with Todd, sitting in his apartment, listening to stories about his band. He could tell Todd was nervous, but he liked being around him. Todd was trying to tidy up, shooting glares at him every so often, which C.J. couldn't really understand.

"Look, are you going to help?" Todd snapped. C.J. huffed, but at least tried to pick up a few things, enjoying reading the blurbs of various books. The dog bounced around at their feet. It was good, being near him. As midnight approached, he headed to the car. They drove there in silence, parking.  
Todd looked worried, muttering to himself about how bad this would be.

"Nonsense," C.J. interrupted, not liking how worried Todd seemed. "We can use this to get some answers."

"What if he pulls a gun?" Todd asked.

"That's why I brought this," C.J. answered, holding up the stab-jacket. "Put it on, and it'll keep you safe at least a bit. And I brought these--" He held up two knives. Todd eyed the length of the blades uncertainly. 

"Put those down before you hurt yourself," Todd muttered, and C.J. did so, some of his enthusiasm waning.

There was the sound of a car horn, and he tensed.  
"That's the man." He grabbed the dog, stepping out of the car, and wishing he knew how to handle this kind of situation. He was extremely good at getting into these situations, but without Curlish or someone else, he was much worse at getting out of them.

His pulse was racing. He walked forwards, Todd beside him. There was a lady, someone he had never seen before.Her face was covered and her wrists were tied behind her.  
"Give me the dog or I kill her," The man ordered.

"Give us her, or we throw the dog off the bridge," C.J. answered, taking another step forwards, trying to stay between Todd and the gun. He knew that guns tended not to hit him -- or if they did, the injury wasn't serious. He doubted that rule applied to Todd. 

"What?" Todd sounded horrified, but took the dog when C.J. passed it over.

"If he shoots us, throw the dog off the bridge," he instructed, hoping that it wouldn't come to that. 

He turned to the man, Rimmer who was facing them, his gun aimed at the woman on her knees beside them.  
“Why did you attack us?” Rimmer asked.

“We didn’t!” C.J. shouted back, confused. “How do you know who we are?”

“We don’t! Where’s the kitten?”

“What kitten?” Todd asked, and C.J. pushed aside his guilt. He thought of the kitten in his bathtub, but continued the conversation.

“Who is that woman?” C.J. called out.

“You don’t know her?” Rimmer asked.

“Do you?” C.J. asked, trying to find some concept of logic from this whole mess.

“Why did you burn my house down?” Rimmer asked, waving his gun around now.

“I burnt your house down?”

“Where’s Lydia?” Todd asked, because he was an excellent assistant, only that question seemed to distress the dog in his arms which began barking.

“Bring me the dog!” Rimmer demanded.

“Why do you want it?” C.J. asked.

“Why did you take it?” Rimmer asked and before C.J. could answer, he continued. “Why did you kill Patrick Spring?”

“We didn’t!” C.J. called out, as Todd asked if Rimmer had done it.

These questions bounced back and forth, and nothing at all gave him a spark of a hunch, or even an idea of what was going on. That was bad.

“Just bring me the dog!” Rimmer ordered.

"What do we do?" Todd asked.

"I don't know," C.J. told him, and then Todd pushed past him, holding the dog and demanding the woman's freedom. The next thing C.J. knew, Todd was holding the dog over the side of the bridge, and C.J. was very aware of how much of him wasn't covered by the body armour.

He realised this would be the one time ever it would be useful to have Agent Priest around, and of course he wasn't there. If Riggins had known where C.J. was, he would have been furious, and that thought was almost amusing.

"I will burn the soul from your body--" the man was yelling, and C.J. felt that sudden spark of knowledge. He turned to tell Todd, just asTodd dropped the dog off the bridge with a terrified scream.

C.J. panicked, running forwards and grabbing Todd as gunshots began. The woman got to her feet, running to the car. He grabbed the gun and helped her into the car, Todd climbing in beside him, and he drove as fast as he could, his heart racing. He headed back to Todd's apartment, knowing he couldn't go to his hotel room, not with the kitten there.

The woman was fighting, and C.J. could hear Todd talking to her, trying to calm her. He couldn't think of calming down, not until they were safe. He parked and they helped her up before removing the hood, and C.J. began to pick the lock of her cuffs.

The woman blinked at them.

"Hey," C.J. offered. "You look tired. Are you tired?"

"What happened?" Todd asked him, and C.J. checked his watch. Quarter to two.

"I need to make a call," he mumbled, ducking away. He could hear Todd talking to her, but he ignored it. Agent Priest didn't answer, so he left a message.

"It's Agent Cjelli. We succeeded. Mostly. The woman is retrieved and I'm getting a hunch. I've ended up staying with Todd for now to investigate. My hunch says I should, so I’m going to… I’m going to listen to it." He hung up the phone, and returned to Todd.

"Thank you for your help back there Todd. You were excellent. Wonderful assisting."

"You were brave," Todd told him, and C.J. couldn't help smiling. He'd never been called brave before, but Todd continued, asking how he'd survived so long.

C.J. didn't want to answer that, so he just continued smiling.  
"I need you, you were helpful."

"That was… do you think they killed Patrick Spring? I mean, everything's connected right?" Todd suggested, and C.J. felt a fluttering in his chest. No wonder Todd was meant to be his best friend, if he understood things like that. If he would listen.

"Those corpses had the same tattoos that those bald guys had… I saw something." He hesitated, and C.J. listened as he explained the meaning.

The woman sat up and looked at them.  
"Are you Agent Cj--"

"I'm Dirk." C.J. ran forwards, trying to signal for her to be quiet. "I'm Dirk Gently. I'm a holistic detective. I'm on a case."


	5. Enthusiasts

The woman stared at him curiously.  
"Dirk, huh?"

"Yes," he insisted, silently begging her to listen and play along -- he wanted to impress Todd, and couldn't imagine him managing that when he had lied to Todd from the very start about his name.

"Well then, good to meet you Dirk."

"Thank you Miss--"

"Black. Farah Black." She smiled a little at him, and Todd laughed, but whatever was happening was lost on C.J.. C.J. often had absolutely no idea what it was that people were talking about, and this seemed to be a case.

"Well. Perhaps you and Todd should rest, and I'll see you in the morning--" C.J. suggested.

"You're just leaving us here?" Todd asked, and C.J. shrugged.

"I don't think you're in any danger, and I have my own leads to follow up, so yes, I think I can leave you assuming you aren't afraid to be on your own. Not that you will be alone -- unless of course you're worried about her, but..." He hesitated, considering that the cat needed feeding and that Todd needed company. He shrugged to himself. "If you are worried, then I'm going to insist on staying here."

That would hopefully enable him to get a few words with Farah, and ensure that she didn't let out too much. She introduced herself as Patrick Spring's bodyguard, and suddenly things made a little more sense -- Spring had asked for him after all.

"So, Dirk." Farah sat up, wincing slightly as she did so. "I've had a pretty tough week. So why don't you bring me up to speed about what's been happening?"

So C.J. set out what he had learned so far -- which wasn't anywhere near as much as he would have liked. Too many of his questions seemed to have no answers. But he had rescued Patrick Spring's bodyguard. Officially that hadn't been his job, but he was still rather pleased about doing it.

He ended up sleeping on the floor by the sofa, which wasn't as uncomfortable as he had expected. Farah had said she didn't want the bed, so she was sleeping on the sofa. 

Todd groaned from the doorway.  
"Dirk, my life is so weird now. Is it going to get better?"

"Todd, I am almost a thousand percent certain that your life will get stranger in the foreseeable future."

That comment earned him another groan, and then Todd was stalking away, leaving C.J. and Farah alone in the room.

"Dirk, huh?" she asked, and C.J. could feel his heart racing.

"Part of the investigative process." He hoped she wouldn't tell Priest. Logically her and Priest weren't working on the same thing, so maybe that meant he would be free and wouldn't have to worry about it.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," C.J. answered honestly. "I want to get some sleep. Look, when I wake up I've got some stuff I need to do, but I'll be back after a little while or--"

"You can just meet us at the house you were talking about? The site you saw Lydia."

"That sounds good." C.J. nodded, laying down on the floor. It was awkward lying on the floor -- he was used to lying with the tips of his little fingers curved around the edge of his mattress, but there was no mattress and therefore no edge. But he could hardly kick Todd out of his own bed due to his discomfort, so he told himself that he would find a way of getting by. He took several slow deep breaths, listening to Farah -- he was sure she was mumbling to herself, but she wasn't saying anything helpful like explaining what was going on. 

After a few moments, Farah sat up, leaning to kick him gently with one foot. He muttered and curled up.

"What?"

"Patrick said--" she began, and then she sobbed. He waited for her to calm down, wondering if she was upset by the other man's death. When she spoke, her voice was trembling, but she tried to sound sure. "Patrick said I should say the word sunshine to you."

"Thank you," he answered. 

"I don't suppose you can tell me why?"

"It's not something I can discuss," C.J. told her. "National security and all that."

She arched an eyebrow, but she fell into silence, and laid back down. C.J. tried to think. Not only had Patrick asked for him by name, but he knew about C.J.'s promise to himself about escape. For a moment he wondered if Patrick could be C.J. somehow, but that made no sense. He pushed the thought aside, trying to focus on what was next.

He drifted to sleep, and in the morning he got up and slipped away. The kitten was glad to see him, but Curlish and Agent Priest weren't back. He wondered what was taking so long. He made sure the room was still reserved and marked not for disruption, and returned one of the knives he had borrowed -- he held onto the other one in case he needed it. Pointy end went into the person you didn't like, he could definitely remember that.

He headed to the house which he had accidentally set on fire the previous day, trying to look confident and to hide the nervousness which swirled inside of him. Whatever was happening here, it was much bigger than the case he had thought that he had been investigating. He didn't know what it was, just that it was something big. That it was going to be important.

Todd and Farah were stood awkwardly looking towards the building. Todd looked like he was seriously considering hiding in the shrubbery. Todd was quite a small man, so he would probably have been well concealed, but C.J. couldn't work out how to make that point in a way that conveyed genuine admiration rather than irritation or a desire to be rude to Todd. 

Talking to people outside of the confines of Blackwing was unbelievably complicated, and part of C.J. hated it. He walked straight over to them, trying not to feel the way his insides twisted when they looked at him and smiled.  
"There's no real information. None of my contacts have any idea what's happening, and Rimmer hasn't texted--"

"You have his number?" Farah asked in disbelief. He opened up his phone to show her, and she grabbed it from him. He couldn't help feeling that was unnecessarily rude.

She held the phone to her ear, and suddenly she was yelling, and the other end of the call sounded shouty, and the whole situation was unnecessarily loud. She pulled the phone away from her ear and glared at it.  
"I will get her back." She hung up the call. "Look, we should go and get... go and get some weapons. We need to be prepared, for whatever we're facing."

***

Ken was surprised by the man that stepped out of the car, and the immediate change of demeanour he caused in Bart. She raced straight to him, pulling him into an embrace.  
"What've you gone and get yourself messed up in this time darlin'?" he asked, and she shrugged slightly. 

"Nothin'?" She smiled up at him. "Just... just the universe wanted me to go an' get something, and kill some guy, and then there was this other guy, and some people in a shop that I gotta… and Ken! You gotta meet Ken." She dragged the man over.

He looked over at Ken, and Ken stared back.  
"Ken, this is Priest, he's great. And Priest, this is Ken, he's great. We're all gonna be friends, and Ken's gonna come back to Blackwing with us."

"Blackwing?" Ken queried. He thought she might have mentioned it before. 

Bart shrugged.  
"Yeah, like I told you. It's a place for people like me. An' Priest, an' Jelly. And some others, too. But I'm not meant to meet them because sometimes I..." She gestured absentmindedly with a knife, and Ken decided he definitely could imagine the end of the sentence.

"So is Ken like us?" Priest asked, amused.

"Nah but I like him. I think we gotta keep him around." She paused. "He gets shouty when I kill people and it's funny."

"Yeah, he'll get used to that," Priest answered. "What do you do? When you're not hanging around with assassins?"

"I'm an IT guy," Ken answered, swallowing a little, feeling strangely nervous. He licked his lips and carried on. "I fix stuff, and get into places people don't want me, and I'm good at what I do."

"Sure." Priest nodded. "Well, I'm glad I found you Bart, because Icarus is on his own when I'm hunting you, and that boy is nothing but trouble. We should head back before he sets something on fire."

"Does he… have fire powers?" Ken interrupted, frowning.

"No. He's just... things happen around him. Psychic," Priest explained, and Ken shrugged a little, thinking about Bart. This week was already being pretty fucking weird. He didn't think he could accept impervious to bullets and refuse psychic if the world was going to start operating on video game logic.

He thought back through the conversation.  
"She said like 'us'?" He met Priest's eyes, and Priest shrugged a little.

"Yeah, I guess she did, didn't she."

"So what do you..."

Priest laughed.  
"Oh, a few things. I track people, that runs in the family, but what else I can do..." He paused, and then shrugged. 

in the distance, Ken could hear motorcycles. Priest smirked.  
"You'll find out, but I think I'll let Bart handle this one. Have fun."  
As he watched, Priest seemed to fade against the background, and for just a moment all that lingered was his smile like some kind of Cheshire cat. It disappeared as well, leaving the two of them standing alone.

"Bye Priest!" Bart bounced slightly on the balls of her feet, her eyes lighting up. "I think I get ta kill someone soon," she told Ken.

Ken wasn't sure he found it as reassuring as she clearly meant for it to be.

In the distance, a crowd of motorcycles crested a hill, and Ken suddenly wished that he could disappear as well. He looked at the car Priest had arrived in, and their own, and wondered why Bart wasn't just trying to drive away. As the people came closer, he could see that the insignia on their jackets matched that of the man Bart had killed a few hours ago.

He might have been trying to kill them and failed, but Ken was fairly sure that his friends weren't going to find it so difficult.  
"Priest?" he called out, and Bart laughed.

"Oh, he thinks I got this. There isn't that many people here. I'm gonna kill them all. All tha' matters is if I kill them before or after they kill you. But I don't think it looks good." With that, she raised her hands as one of the bikes stopped beside them, looking at the rider curiously.

"Don't try and play cute with me,” the rider muttered, and then someone grabbed Ken, and a blindfold was placed on him. He could hear Bart laugh. He couldn't tell where Priest had gone. He began to scream.  
"It was her!" he yelled. If Bart was invincible or whatever, she could survive what would happen. The men who were grabbing them didn't seem to listen, pulling them both away.

***

The van was still there, and Todd wasn't picking up his phone. Amanda still wasn't sure what had happened, when she had hallucinated that woman -- or maybe the woman hadn't been a hallucination. That didn't make sense, but then, none of this made any sense.

She braced herself, taking a deep breath as she walked along the road, Todd's voice telling her to leave a message.  
"I'm outside, so there's that," she told him, glancing back over her shoulder to check. The van was still there. It was following her, a strange guardian that growled and snarled and made a sense of warmth settle deep in her chest. "I've been thinking about what Dirk said about being inside all the time, and he's right. I can... I can get my own food. It'll suck either way, so... I'm going to the grocery store. So you know. That's an adventure."

It was definitely following, close behind her. She found herself smiling back at it. Whatever was going on in her life, she got the feeling that the van was something good.

***

The house Patrick Spring had lived in was huge and C.J. couldn't help staring.  
"Bloody hell, this place is huge!" He'd never seen a building this big, not to live in. Logically Blackwing was bigger, but the sprawling complex was mostly underground, so he couldn't feel that it wasn't the same. This was a house. "Is that a horse barn?"

"Rhino barn," Farah corrected, explaining about Pepe and the history of the house, and about her father's history and the story of the house -- that it had been used by squatters after its eccentric creator had disappeared.

He wanted to befriend her, he just had to work out how.  
"Look, did Patrick say why you had to say... that word... to me?"

"He said it was important. It... it's something I can do for him now. Mostly I..." Farah's voice trailed off, and C.J. patted her shoulder awkwardly. She took a shuddering breath, looking up at him.

"So, why have you told Todd your name is Dirk?"

"I'm… investigating," C.J. told her. "And the agency I work for, Blackwing, let me go undercover, and I just... it didn't feel right to tell him that. I've told him I definitely don't work for the CIA, and honestly I shouldn't have said it but..." He sighed. "I don't want him to think I was lying."

"You were lying."

"That doesn't mean I want him to think I was --" He was interrupted as an older man strode up, beaming to see Farah.

"Who is this?"

"John Dollow. He is-was-Patrick Spring's lawyer. John, this is Agent Cjelli, otherwise known as Dirk."

"Isn't… that interesting," the man muttered. "You'd better both come in."

C.J. shrugged, following John into the building and wondering what was going on, and whether he'd somehow upset Farah by lying to Todd, which didn't even make sense.  
"I'll be in Mister Spring's office. I've got something for you Farah," John led the way, muttering to himself.

"So is he always that suspicious?" C.J. asked, and Farah shook her head, looking lost. 

After a moment the two of them headed in, with Farah leading the way to the office. C.J. noticed that the inside of the house was just as grand as outside.

"I've been executing Mister Spring's last wishes," John explained. "He left this for you -- with the express instructions not to hand it over unless you were in the presence of Agent Cjelli, C.J. and Dirk."

"Well, lucky I'm here," C.J. answered, watching as Farah took the envelope. On the front someone had written "3?1!"

"When he told me that I needed to make contact with… with your agency. He knew this would happen, didn't he?" Farah asked, and C.J. nodded hesitantly. 

"It looks like that."

"He knew he was going to die."

"He didn't… he wanted me to solve the murder, not prevent it." He took the envelope. "Three questions, one answer." That was what the other-him had said in the lift. 

Farah squeaked and snatched the envelope back.

"Perhaps we should give the young lady a moment?" John suggested, pulling C.J. from the room. 

After a moment, as John left, C.J. headed back inside.  
"What are you looking at?"

"You went outside."

"Yes, and I came back because the interesting things are happening in here," C.J. explained, looking at Farah, startled to find she looked close to tears. "Is… something wrong? Were you and Patrick… close?"

"I knew him my entire life. My dad never recovered after Catherine's death, but Patrick gave my life a lot of purpose and I don't..." She shook her head. "Everything went crazy and I screwed it up again. Patrick's dead, Lydia's gone…”

Her words washed over C.J., and he wondered how to help. He wondered how he'd feel if Riggins was gone. Awkwardly, he reached out to pat her shoulder.  
"You... you aren't to blame."

"I'm just… an ineffectual and a generalised scramble of disappointment and incompetence."

"No. You're only some of those things--" C.J. tried to soothe her, only for her to howl in despair. He frowned, wondering where he'd gone wrong. He tried to pat her again. He wasn't sure it was helping.  
"Look. In Blackwing… sometimes I couldn't help people. I wanted to but I didn't... know enough. But sometimes… I could. And just keeping going means I can. I'm learning, and you can learn too."

"I'll go and find Lydia," Farah said, and C.J. reached out.

"You've got to open your letter first."

"Oh?"

"I'm sure of it. Just give it a chance," he demanded, and she opened it. He grabbed it. It was a scribble, and it took a moment for him to recognise it was a map. Farah grabbed it back, walking around to work out where they were going.

Eventually, it led to a downstairs basement.  
"This is it," she said. 

"What are we looking for?"

"The map led us here." She frowned, heading to the back wall and examining it.

"Yes, that's a wall," C.J. agreed. "Was this wall special to him?" 

Farah interrupted his questioning by attacking the wall with an iron, tearing it open. C.J. helped her, and they found themselves faced with a dial.

"Give me the map..." C.J. ordered, setting the clock to the time it said on the page. It began to chime, and the wall slid back to reveal hidden room.

"This is the foundation to the house. This has been here the whole time." She reached out to touch the walls. 

"What's that big electric thing?" C.J. asked. It looked like something used for tests, but it didn't make sense. He stepped closer, reaching out to pick up an interesting looking piece of metal. He slipped it into his jacket pocket. Then he grabbed a lightbulb, and it glowed.

"How did you do that?"

"With my hands," C.J. answered with a grin. He picked up some paper, unrolling it to reveal a message. 'Please save her.' 

Farah frowned, and C.J. grabbed Farah.  
"Come on. Let's go. He wants us to save Lydia. He did plan this. Somehow, he's planned it all."

"Dirk..." Farah reached out to him, and C.J. was surprised to find he liked her calling him that. "I think you might actually be a good detective."


	6. Rogue

Before she had got sick, Amanda would never have thought of going to the supermarket as an adventure. As something unusual, exciting even. But her life was sliced in two -- into before and after she had fallen ill. And after, this was the biggest thing that had happened in a long time.

Walking inside the store, she could smell different foods in the air, almost taste the bread that was baking. There was some cheese on little skewers, and she reached out to grab one, not allowing her mind to consider the myriad of ways those snacks could backfire. The cheese tasted good, and she looked for the right kind, adding it to her basket.

She felt brave. She was here, all by herself. She had turned down Todd's offers of escorting her, but she had made it on her own, and nothing was going badly. She grabbed some bananas, a few other things, and then went to pay. She placed the basket down, grinning.  
"I made it." She announced, a brilliant smile on her face. The cashier looked vaguely confused, but Amanda didn't care because she had done it. She had got out of the house, and made it here. 

She had bought enough food for the next few days -- and then when that ran out, she could buy more. The lady rang up her shopping, and that was when it began, flames licking at her skin. There was a split second when she could just see the light, and she fumbled for her pills, but then it was agony. She screamed, her pills spilling over the floor, and she tried to call Todd. He answered.  
"I messed up. Please, Todd, help me--" She screamed, and the phone fell from her hands. She grabbed it, and ran from the store. 

It hurt so badly. The flames were spreading now, across her body, and she could hear screaming and shouting but none of it registered, not when it hurt so badly. She saw a blue light, and heard voices, images flickering, and then the flames were falling back. She whimpered, and felt strong arms wrapping around her, hefting her up off the ground. She kept her eyes closed, too tired to open them, too exhausted to struggle. She was carried, and then placed down..

"Got her," a male voice said.

"She okay?" someone asked -- younger she thought.

"She seems to be."

"Her pulse is back at 65 beats a minute," another voice added, a hand resting against her wrist. "She is just tired."

"Oh!" a woman's voice squeaked. "I can be a teddy bear!" There was a soft thump beside her head, and then something warm and fluffy was placed in her hands. She shrugged, still a little dazed, holding onto it as a few of the voices moved away. It was a few minutes before they returned, and then the entire world was tilting -- she was in a vehicle then. 

It was growling. The van that had followed her was here. She was lifted again, and then heard a garage door open. She was placed down on something hard.

"Take care of yourself Drummer," a voice muttered, and the bear was removed from her grasp. Footsteps walked away, and the door closed again.

She scrambled to sitting, seeing their legs leave -- and saw her shopping was left beside her. 

This was getting very strange.

***

Ken woke up slowly, feeling disorientated. His arms were hurting, his back stretched awkwardly, and he was cold. He didn't want to open his eyes. He could remember the bikers approaching, and then Priest disappearing, and then nothing. He wasn't sure he wanted to find out what came next.

"Hey, Ken?" came Bart's voice, and reluctantly he opened his eyes, not sure what to expect. He regretted it. He was tied to some kind of wire structure in the middle of a field. Bart's voice came from behind him. There was no one else there. 

"Help me!"

"You okay Ken?"

"I'm... No, Bart, I'm not okay. What's… What's happening?"

"Oh." Bart sighed. "They're going to kill you."

"Can't you get us down from here? With your thing?"

"What thing?" 

"Your flow of the universe thing."

"You… believe in that?" She sounded hopeful, and Ken closed his eyes. 

"It's funny. I knew I'd die in some horrible way..."

"You hang around with some dangerous types," Bart pointed out.

"You kidnapped me!" Ken protested. She laughed softly.

"I meant before that."

"Oh." He hesitated. "I was going to get a real job one day, but the money was better and the work was interesting."

"Look... Ken. I dunno where Priest has gone, he normally... I guess he wanted to find out what happens next. But when those guys come back. You're gonna die, or I'm going to kill all of them, or you'll die and then I'll kill them, or--" 

Ken screamed, rattling the structure in an attempt to escape it, but he was bound tightly. Bart sighed, waiting for him to finish.

"Whatever happens, it was the way things were meant to be. That's why Priest's gone. But I... I really liked having you with me, you know? So I'm hoping I kill them all and you don't die."

"And you'll just be fine."

"Yeah. I don't get hurt. But I am gonna miss you though."

Ken stayed silent, working on trying to pull his hand free.  
"Do something. Anything. Please."

"It doesn't work like that," she told him, and he could hear bikers approaching. One of them was holding a torch that was on fire, and he was suddenly horribly aware he was standing on a wooden structure.

"Ken, is that a new guy?" Bart asked. The man was asking questions, and Bart was ignoring him.

"She killed him," Ken tried to plead, wanting to get away. "She's crazy. It was just her. I just... I was just there. I want to get away from her, you know? She did this, not me." 

If Bart was right, and she couldn't be hurt, then this wouldn't be a problem. And if she could be hurt -- if she was wrong about the universe stuff, it would be better to let this gang get rid of her. She'd already killed a lot of people.

The leader shook his head, not listening to what Ken was saying.  
"You killed Jake. You're gonna burn."

"Get me down," Ken begged. He could hear Bart laugh softly.  
"That guy that just turned up, he's the one I'm waiting for."

There was laughter from the men.

"I'm not the guy you want. She is." He screamed as a rock was thrown at him, ducking out of the way. It collided with the structure, and part of it fell down, hurting one of the men. Bart had somehow got a wrist free, and then there was shooting over his shoulder. He saw Bart stumble forwards, wearing only her underwear. The gun she was holding stopped, and then one of the men threw a knife at her. It bounced off.

She grabbed the knife from the ground and threw it straight at the man, smirking as he fell to the floor. She turned back to Ken.  
"Come on. Put some clothes on."

Ken stared at her. Bart had been almost-naked, weaponless, tied up, and surrounded by six or seven armed men. And she'd come out on top. She walked over to the corpse, grabbing the knife, and then walked back to Ken. 

He cringed, flinching away from her, half expecting her to stab him as well. She cut the tape, and he crumpled down to the ground.

"Beautiful work Marzanna--" Priest said, fading back into visibility.

"You were there?" Ken asked him, eyes wide. "You were there and you just--"

"I knew the lady could handle herself." He shrugged off his jacket, placing it over Bart's shoulders. "You did good kid."

"Thanks." She grinned up at him. "Hey, Ken didn't die." 

"I saw that."

"This is... really ... this is what you do?"

"In a way." Priest answered. "She's good at it, isn't she?"

"She..." Ken opened his mouth, considering saying that she was a murderer. But he could see the hope in her eyes, and she had saved him. "Yeah, she did great." He was confused. He had always been someone who had relied on science, who had understood how the world worked and made full use of that knowledge, and now -- well, Bart and Priest were outside of the world that he knew. But Bart handed him a jacket, and he pulled it on, wondering if this was going to be his life now. He'd always felt that things were purposeless, that the world was just there and what you did didn't matter -- but these two, they were guided by something else.  
"This is real, isn't it?" he asked her softly. "You really are what you say you are. Some kind of killer angel."

She laughed softly, and then shrugged.  
"I really am what I say I am."

"I'm with you two for a reason. This... all of this. My life, it's happening for a reason, isn't it?"

"Maybe, yeah."

He glanced over at Priest.  
"I want you to tell me everything."

"Come on. Let's get you back to the car." Priest smirked. "It's all going to take a little while to explain, and Icarus has probably been silly left on his own, you know how he gets." 

Ken shrugged, then nodded, following the two of them. This was… everything was different from what he had thought. And he was delighted.

***

Amanda was drumming. Todd could hear her as he ran towards the garage, her phone call on his mind. He raced straight to her.  
"Oh thank god you're okay." He pulled her close, confused but desperate to hold onto her. He could barely breathe.

"It's... I'm sorry. I just went shopping, I had a little flare up but--" She was trying to calm him down, Todd knew that. To pretend that the illness wasn't that bad, to stop him worrying, and he knew how badly he'd messed up, was reminded of it every time he saw her, but it never got any easier.

"I'm home, I'm in one piece Todd. It's fine. I promise you, it's fine. I'm fine." She kept repeating it, as though if she said it enough, it might be true. He couldn't share her optimism there, not when he knew what he had done. This was all his fault. 

He tried to catch his breath.  
"How did you get here?" she asked, and he tried to focus on the fact she was okay.  
"I was so worried. I ran, and then I took the bus, and then I ran some more and I… Amanda I was so scared--"

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to bother you, I just...."

"It's okay."

"Where's Dirk?"

"What do you mean where's Dirk?" Todd stared at her. He'd just raced across half the city.

"I've got to talk to him. About some stuff. He's the reason weird stuff is happening right?"

Todd stared at her in disbelief.  
"What weird stuff?" he was worried now. What had happened, why had he left her alone? He should have insisted she moved in with him months ago, only it was hardly a safe building, and he couldn't move out here and keep his job. "Look, he doesn't know everything. Anything."

"Isn't that how he works? As a detective."

"He's barely a detective."

"Then why do you work as his assistant?" Amanda asked, and he could see the concern in her eyes now. "There's something you're not telling me. Is there a lot of stuff you aren't telling me?" And she was nearly guessing, she was so close. He couldn't face her finding out. 

"No. Amanda, I tell you everything. Everything's fine. I just... I worry about you being here on your own. You should come and stay with me."

"You want me to leave the house?" she asked, and there was terror in her eyes, and he had done this to her. He had done this, with his lies. He had scared her of the outside world, made her avoid everything.

"You did already today. We can go slowly, we'll be careful, and I'll be there. You left already today."

"It wasn't... it was... almost not-fine..." There was something in her face, something she knew and wasn't sharing, and that scared him. But she looked close to tears, and that was his focus. He reached out, drawing her into an embrace.

"We can make it fine."

"Don't you remember what it's like?"

"We can call a cab. I used to take cabs all the time--" he reassured, choking slightly on his lies. She was so desperate, and he wanted to make things better, but he couldn't undo what he had already done. "It'll be great. I promise. Just you and me. It'll be like a sleepover."

He dialled the cab, and helped Amanda put together a bag of clothes for while she was staying. She kept looking out of the window as they packed, and he wondered why -- if she was expecting someone to visit. As far as he knew no one ever visited her.

He took her back to his apartment, wincing as he handed over the money for the cab, reminding himself he still had the lottery ticket.  
"Look, you can take the bed, and I can sleep on the sofa, that'll be easier right? The bed's soft, it shouldn't trigger any attacks--"  
He unlocked the door, and then frowned at what he saw. Farah and Dirk were sitting on the sofa, looking at something.

"Oh, hi Dirk!" Amanda greeted him, as though she fully expected Dirk to be in Todd's apartment. Todd stared at him in shock, not quite sure what to say.

"This is my house," he muttered.

"Yes, it is, isn't it? That's why you're here, very well done Todd. Excellent detective skills there."  
Todd glared at him, wondering if he would be able to skin someone alive. He doubted it, but it did sound tempting.

***

C.J. grinned over at Todd, glad to see Amanda was with him. She was smiling, and he was genuinely delighted to see her.  
"You are fantastic Amanda."

"You're fantastic," she told him, and he couldn't help grinning as she ran over to look at the grid-type-thing they were examining. Todd looked at them.

"Why are you here?"

"We were waiting for you. We found -- well, we found quite a few things, but the exciting thing was we found a glowy light bulb that turns on when you touch it, and we found a thing, and--"

Amanda was looking at the grid-thing.  
"It's a map!" she cheered.

"A map led us to a map," C.J. agreed.

"It's… not a map." Farah argued.

"It's a layer of a map. Showing utilities -- they're on government websites -- I don't get out that much."

C.J. thought of his room at Blackwing, and nodded.  
"Yeah. Me neither."

"This is... so cool," Amanda said cheerfully, running her fingers over the lines. "That's... that's the electricity lines, and that's ... that's a power line. This is... this is where we are! This is the Ridgeley! This is this building."

C.J. grinned. This was good -- now no one could object to him spending time here. Amanda and Farah were introducing themselves, and he felt happy -- they all looked like they wanted to be here, other than Todd. Which was weird, because this was Todd's house.

"Are you alright Todd?" 

Todd walked out into the hall, and C.J. followed him.  
"Stop following me!"

"I wasn't," C.J. lied. "I was… going to get the magic light bulb from my car. To show Amanda, because I think Amanda would like it." He glared, wondering why Todd hated him so much. C.J. was used to people hating him, but not Todd. Todd was meant to be his best friend, he just didn't act like it very much.

"Get out of my way."

"I told you it would bend back around to you and it has," C.J. pleaded with him. "Look, we are meant to know each other. It was always leading to this. It was... we were always going to end up here. I'm sick of you arguing. There's a map there with your building at the centre. I... I want your help Todd." He looked down, ashamed.

"This neighbourhood. It's... called Springsborough. Like Patrick Spring… Edward Spring, that was his father. Springsborough. That's not a coincidence, is it?" Todd looked just as lost as he felt.

"No. It's not a coincidence."

"You knew this would happen?"

"Not this. But something like this." 

Todd stared at him now, confusion and something like fear in his eyes.  
"It's real, isn't it? It's all real. You really are what you say you are. Some kind of holistic detective."

"I do what I can. Is that enough proof? Will you help me?" C.J. asked, his voice shaking a little. He wanted Todd's help. Wanted to be Dirk, to be the person that Todd thought he was -- that the other-him had been. He couldn't do that on his own.

"I will," Todd agreed. C.J. smiled.

"I should... I will go and get that magic lightbulb..." He almost skipped for joy as he headed down the stairs, a broad smile on his face.

"Hello Agent Cjelli."  
Colonel Riggins’ voice stopped him dead. He was afraid -- afraid the man knew he'd fed the Rowdy Four, that he'd been leaving without permission, that he was disobeying a direct order. That he'd planned to escape -- that he'd shared that secret with Patrick Spring of all people, a man he'd arrived too late to save -- all of it twisted inside of him, and he wanted to scream or run but he couldn't. Because he had to play the role of the good agent.

"Hello Colonel."

"Svlad. We need to talk." 

"Yes sir," Svlad answered, standing to attention, trying to stay calm. "What is the problem? Is Agent Curlish alright?" 

"Marzanna is fine. Apparently she just wiped out a biker gang, and Agent Priest is bringing her back. No, my concern is for you, my boy."

Svlad stood a little straighter, his shoulders back, feet the correct distance apart.  
"I'm fine sir. You don't need to worry about me at all."

"You are getting too into character. These people you are with- you care about them. I can tell."

"No!" Svlad shook his head. "I just... I need them. For the case," he begged, reminded of being small and saying that he needed to see Moloch or Mona, that they'd help. "I have always worked better when I have someone to bounce ideas off of. You know that sir."

"You should come back in Svlad. You... this was a mistake. It's too soon after the breakout, you aren't ready to handle everything yet."

"No. Please," Svlad begged. "I'm working on this, I can solve it, I swear to you. Please."

"You... it is in your own best interests Svlad."

"No," Svlad argued, feeling sick at refusing but knowing in the same breath that he had to do so. "I can do this sir."

"I'm not the enemy here. You're getting too into being this 'Dirk' character. You're acting like you really are a detective. You are going to get yourself hurt if you continue--"

"I am on a case. A case that you gave me sir. We've found clues. We're going to solve this mystery. It was what you gave me sir. It was a job, and I can do this. Please."

"I'm trying to protect you," the Colonel told him. "I'm worried I'm going to lose you Svlad. I don't want to do that."

"Please." Svlad's voice quivered slightly. "Please. Just let me try a little longer. I can do this."

"Svlad--"

"Please. I can't just hide in the shadows. Let me have this. Just once. I'll do what you want after this, but this is my case. Please."

"Svlad. If... if anything bad happens, you have to come back in, do you understand?"

"Yes," Svlad agreed. 

"I expect regular reports. You will check in with Agent Priest, and you will stop acting like these people are your friends."

"Yes sir."

"Then for now, you can continue. I'm staying close. I think the Rowdy Four are near."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir," Svlad walked back to the car, grabbing the lightbulb. His hands were shaking as he carried it back upstairs.


	7. Watson

C.J. was rather relieved that the lightbulb distracted Amanda and Todd from asking too many questions about any nervousness that showed. He had to focus. He knew he'd spun out slightly back then -- seeing Riggins so close to his best friend was frightening. The two of them were both fascinated, taking their turns to hold onto it.

He swallowed reluctantly.  
"I should go back to my place," he muttered, and looked at the others, silently begging one of them to tell him to stay. Neither did. So he left the map and the lightbulb there. That way the information couldn't get into the wrong hands, and if Riggins did bring him in, they wouldn't completely forget him. He felt like collapsing in tears, but that wasn't helpful.  
"I'll come back in the morning," he muttered, heading to the hotel. He heard them yell goodnight after him, but he didn't respond, too focused on just getting back and facing Mister Priest.

The room was empty when he got back, aside from the cat. He sat down with her, cuddling her against him for a little while. He showered, and eventually allowed her to join him when she was protesting too loudly at being outside.  
"I've never known a cat that likes being wet before," he told her. If he was honest with himself, his knowledge of cats was mostly theoretical -- it wasn't as though they were allowed pets in Blackwing, and the creatures he had seen there never lasted long. But still, this cat was strange, he was sure of it. He made sure she was comfortably curled up on one of Curlish's shirts, and then went to lay down on his bed.

"Hey Jelly," Curlish called out as she opened the door. "I hope you had a good time without us, we missed you. It was cool, I got to kill a whole bunch of people, and I found a friend."

"You -- you found a friend?" C.J. asked, suddenly worried that she had somehow tracked down and murdered Todd. He couldn't have caused that. He mentally begged anyone that might listen for Todd to be kept safe.

"Yeah. He's called Ken, he's a riot." She flopped down on her bed. "Priest's gonna talk to him. About us and stuff. How's stuff been here?"

C.J. had never held Curlish in particularly high regard. She was annoying, and murderous, and surprisingly blunt at times. But he didn't exactly have anyone else to talk to about it.  
"It's been alright. I'm trying to solve this man's murder."

"What's he look like?"

C.J. described Patrick Spring, and Curlish shrugged.  
"Nah, I don't think that was one of mine."

"I don't think so either. The scene was… weird. Like, really weird."

"We're really weird," Curlish pointed out. "It's what we do."

"Yeah," C.J. agreed, then sighed, wondering why he was trying to explain this to Curlish when it was clearly beyond her understanding. "Look, the Colonel's worrying about how I'm getting on. He's talking about maybe bringing me back in, you know? Making sure that I'm alright. But I am alright, I'm just working, you know that."

Curlish looked at him and nodded.  
"You got a hunch, right?"

"Yes." C.J. conceded.

"Sure thing then." She shrugged, stretching out on her bed, limbs sprawled in all directions. "I get that. They don't... you have a hunch, you gotta do it. I understand."

"Thanks," he answered, and he meant it. He could hear her moving around, but he closed his eyes, planning to try and get some more sleep.

"Hey, Jelly?"

"Yeah?"

"Why is there a cat in the bathroom?"

"Hunch," C.J. answered.

"Oh. Cool. Hey little hunch cat. We should name it. Hunat. Cunch. Hach. Cun--"

"I don't think the cat needs a name," C.J. interrupted her. "She's just. A clue."

"A secret clue?"

"Yeah. If that's okay."

"Sure." Curlish went to wash, and then she was lying in bed as well

"I've got to carry on working on this case, tomorrow," he told her.

"Sure thing. We'll stay out of your way."

***

Ken stared at the folder in his hands, looking between it, and Priest, and then back down.  
"You're sure I'm meant to have access to this kind of information?"

"Hell no." He grinned. "You're definitely and absolutely not meant to have access to that kind of information. This stuff's top secret. Hell, you'd need ten different security checks before you could read the contents page."

"So why did you... why did you give it to me?"

"Because I don't think you need those checks." Priest shrugged. "You're here, and Bart ain't killed you, and that means you're important. That means you're like us. So you should know. And hell, I'm sure Blackwing could use a man of your specialities, if you're looking for a job."

"I..." Ken hesitated, staring at the folder, feeling the weight of it "This has all the answers?"

"Not all of them. There's a lot of stuff we ain't worked out yet. But it tells you all we know, and that's a lot more answers than you've got so far."

"Thank you." Ken opened the folder. He wasn't sure what he was going to expect. But he had been searching for the answers for a long time, and this man had just given him a folder full of them. He grinned, and opened the first page.

***

Todd was eating breakfast with Amanda, smiling at her. She looked happy -- happier than she'd been in a long time. He should have done this ages ago. Should have rescued her from being trapped alone in her house, but he'd been too selfish, too afraid. As always he'd been trapped in his own mistakes, and his sister had been the one to suffer for it, because he was an objectively terrible person.

He was a liar, and for a long time he'd been sure he could keep his lies hidden, but something about Dirk was making that feel more challenging than it had been before. He felt afraid of where this was going to end up. 

As though summoned by his thoughts, he could suddenly hear Dirk yelling.  
"Todd! Come out, Farah's solved the mystery!"

He looked out the window, and the two of them were there.  
"Todd, come out! Farah hasn't solved the mystery."

"Oh God." He closed his eyes. "Maybe I can just stay in here--"

"No!" Amanda looked horrified at the very suggestion. "You should go. Farah's there, and Dirk -- you and he seem to get on really well, and you should..." She grinned. "A magic detective and a hot chick want you to go and hang out with them, and you're acting like that's a bad thing?" 

"I don't… I shouldn't leave you Amanda."

"Go!" She pushed him towards the door. "Have fun. Tell me all about it."

"I want to keep you safe."

"I'll be fine. Don't worry. I have your number. I have Dirk's number. And Farah's number. I'm going to be fine."

"And you're sure?"

"I am sure. Grab a jacket. They've got cool jackets, you need one. Team jacket go."

Todd rolled his eyes, but let her usher him from the room.  
"Thanks. I love you."

"I know." The door swung closed, and he raced after Dirk and Farah.

***

C.J. looked at the map, following Farah -- with no idea what was going on, his best plan was to find someone who looked like they knew what they were doing, and follow them. So far it appeared to be working, as they approached a weird box-thing in the middle of the park.  
"What's that?"

"It's an electricity substation. It... it powers things." 

"Did you not talk to Patrick about it?" C.J. asked. "About all of this?"

"He didn't like talking about this, not after his wife died."

"So you're saying there was some kind of unlimited energy device, and that's what the bad guys are after?" Farah asked after a pause.

"The ...bad guys?" C.J. frowned. "Yes. But no one has found it yet. The map can lead us there. It's the only access point to the Ridgeley." 

"This thing?" Todd frowned. "I pass it every day on my way to work."

"Exactly!" C.J. grinned. "You are connected to the case." He pushed open the gate, and approached the substation, looking around it. There had to be a clue here somewhere, he just had to find it. 

He could hear Todd and Farah talking about things, but that wasn't important. What was important was the thing in the wall. There was a port, and he pulled out the crank from his pocket, putting it in, and turning it.  
The floor beneath him disappeared, and he yelped, finding himself falling through the air as the ground opened up. He landed in a heap, scrambling away.  
"Todd! Farah! The crank, be careful it’s a--" He didn't get to finish the sentence before Todd was falling through the air as well, landing directly on top of where C.J. had been a few moments earlier. The roof clinked closed.

"You could have landed on me!" he protested, but Todd didn't say anything about that. He was looking down at the crank in his hands, and up at the closed ceiling.

"What's... Dirk, what's going on?"

"How am I supposed to know? I fell down here as well, I think we can safely assume I'm equally clueless at this particular moment in time."

"Well could you be... not clueless?" 

"I... don't think I can be, no." C.J. sighed. "But we're here now, so we might as well make the most of it.

He looked around, wondering why someone in possession of an infinite energy device would forget to install lightbulbs. He reached into his pocket, and found that the lightbulb was indeed there. He lit it up, wrapping his hand around it.

The light fell on Todd's face, and he was grinning. C.J. grinned back at him.  
"Don't wander off," Todd muttered, going to yell toFarah. C.J. decided that Todd clearly wasn't being serious. This was interesting, of course he was going to wander off. Staying put would be boring. Staying put was what he was expected to do in Blackwing, and he wasn't in Blackwing now. He was free, and he had the chance to explore. He was going to make the most of it.

There was a pause, and then Todd ran up beside him.  
"Hey."

"Hey Todd." C.J. smiled at him. "I'm glad you're here."

"That I fell down the hole or--"

"I'm glad you caught up with me. Much more fun to explore with company don't you think? Now, we appear to be in some kind of trap- Come along, this way." He grabbed Todd's arm, pulling him through a passageway. 

"Stay there!" Farah yelled from above, and C.J. grinned at Todd, reaching for his arm. Todd hesitated, frowned, and then allowed C.J. to drag him along. 

C.J. felt rather proud of the fact Todd was shaping up to be a rather wonderful assistant.

"There's a door!" Todd yelled, and C.J. followed, poking at the door, suddenly a little hesitant.  
"Does this not seem weird to you?" Todd asked. "We're underground, you have a magic lightbulb--"

"Is that particularly weird Todd?" C.J. asked. He was used to being underground all the time, he couldn't see why the lightbulb would be stranger below ground than above it -- that was the kind of thing he would have to ask Mona about. Maybe it would have made more sense to her. She was good at things which were strange.

C.J. fought down the wave of sadness that threatened. He couldn't worry about that now. He had a case to solve.

He pushed open the door, and frowned at what he saw. The room was dark, but he could see a pattern on the wall, the one that had haunted him since his childhood. There was the Icarus symbol on the wall. There was another door at the far end. He walked towards it, frowning when he saw that there was something on the floor. It looked like writing, but he couldn't read it clearly. He stepped towards it, and it rippled. Water. He looked up.

Written on the ceiling, in gigantic letters was a message.  
"The Colonel is watching you Cjelli." Beneath it, there was a drawing of the sun.  
C.J. felt his blood run cold. He wanted to be sick.

"Dirk?" Todd grabbed his arm. "Dirk, are you okay? Who… do you know who the Colonel is? What's a Cjelli?"

"It's... it's a name." For a moment, he wanted to tell Todd everything, but he couldn't. It wasn't safe. The door swung open, revealing a room lined with lightbulbs beyond. Whatever game Patrick Spring was playing, that message was clearly meant for him. The Colonel was spying on him, and that was dangerous. He'd have to be more careful than ever if he wanted to avoid being ordered back home in disgrace.

***

Ken stared at the folder, his hands shaking slightly with excitement. He thought of the way that Bart had been able to deflect a bullet, the way that a knife had bounced off of her. He thought about how Priest had faded from view, disappearing from the very air in front of him.

“It’s real.” He half breathed it in reverence, before looking up to see Priest stood smiling at him. “It is real, isn’t it? All of it.”

Priest nodded, and Ken felt almost dizzy. He’d dreamed of course, of what might be but he’d never taken it seriously. Never imagined that he would be able to find out so much. That everything he’d ever dreamed of was true, and much more besides. It was all real.

Priest smirked.  
“Now, way I see it? You know a lot now. So I guess it’s up to you what happens next -- if we try and persuade you to forget it, and pretend you ain’t never heard of Blackwing, or if you wanna come and work for us.”

Ken looked up at him.  
“You’d want me working with these people?”

“I don’t see why not. You said it yourself, you’re good with computers and things, and we need some brains around the place. Plus Marzanna likes you.”

“I… I’d need to think about it,” Ken answered, ignoring the look Priest gave him in return. They both knew that there was no way he was going to turn down this particular offer.

“You think about it all you want. Not gonna rush you. But like I said, we could use a guy like you.” 

Ken tried to pretend he wasn’t flattered. Judging by the expression that Priest was sending him, it really wasn’t that convincing.


	8. Holmes

The room full of light bulbs quickly proved itself to be a more than adequate distraction from the fear C.J. had been feeling -- there was something far more visceral and real about nearly being crushed than an ominous warning, and it took a little of his fear away, replacing it with a different kind of terror.

They'd escaped that, into another room, and he hadn't even got his breath back before Todd was continuing to explore.  
"How are we going to get out of here?" He muttered to himself. This was wrong. This was a cruel and sadistic trap -- the kind of thing he expected back in Blackwing, not on a mission where he'd left its hallways and its tortures behind.

"It's another one of those chambers. There must be another door down there--" Todd told him, and he started walking.

"Wait, Todd!" C.J. pleaded. He didn't want to lose him, not now. Not when Todd had just saved his life, and he was getting a hunch. A hunch that told him if they continued down that path, they were both going to end up in a huge amount of pain. "What if there's another killer machine. We can't just walk blindly into it--"

"Dirk." Todd reached out, squeezing his arm. "Walking blindly into things is your whole... thing. It works for you. We can do this. Come on. I'm getting--" He paused. "We're getting out of here, whether the Spring family likes it or not." With that he started to walk away. 

C.J. hesitated. Going forwards would hurt, he was sure of it. But he didn't want Todd to get hurt alone, and there was no way he could return from the way he'd come. He followed him, trying to warn him that they were going to be faced with another trap. Of course, Todd didn't listen, curiously poking at the first thing that he found. 

C.J. was struggling to breathe now. He was thinking of the tests in Blackwing where he had been tortured and cut open. Where they'd given him things that meant danger, and he had to try and use them. Their insistence that he could control it, that he could make his hunches useful -- and in time he had, but it had taken time. This felt like being back at the start, not knowing what they would throw at him next when Mister-Agent Priest told him they had another test to try.  
"Everything is a trap," he muttered, but Todd wasn't listening -- and then he saw a metal rhino. 

He approached it, and Todd grinned.  
"It's a door." 

"Todd, let's just... think about this, and take a minute, okay?" It couldn't be that simple. Couldn't be a case that they touched the door and it opened. Nothing ever worked like that.

Todd turned angry, blaming him for the situation, for falling apart. C.J. couldn't explain the problem, couldn't tell him that years of testing had prepared him for this exact scenario, and the hunch was getting louder by the moment. 

"I'm just trying to deal with the realities that you keep dragging me into!" Todd glared at him, listing everything he had done wrong, every mistake that C.J. had made that had led them here, trapped in a basement full of traps and tests and ominous warnings written on the ceiling. 

"You created this situation?" Todd asked, and reluctantly, C.J. nodded. "We almost just died. We almost just got crushed to death. So acknowledge that."

C.J. nodded, wondering if Todd thought this was his first time being nearly crushed to death.  
"I'm sorry Todd."

"Amanda needs me. And you've trapped me in a death maze." Todd sighed. "You keep calling me your assistant, and I'm not that. But I will help you if it means getting out of here. So calm down."

"I feel reassured--" C.J. lied. "I think you're getting good at this." 

Then Todd tested the door, and found it was locked.

"Are you surprised by that?" C.J. asked, and Todd pressed against the door again.

"I hope you're not smiling."

"There must be some kind of puzzle to solve--" C.J. rationalised. It might be bad, his hunch might be screaming, but there was no point in a test that was unpassable. It might hurt, but he could do this. Todd examined the door, and he looked over at the horn, sure that was the clue.

"Maybe this is meant to be for Farah--" Todd muttered. "Maybe we're not meant to be here."

"No, we're on the right track," C.J. insisted. He couldn't have Todd losing faith in what they were doing, not right now.

"How can you know that?"

"I always end up exactly where I need to be," C.J. told him. "Despite the fact it's rarely where I intended to go." 

Todd snorted, turning away to look at the door, and C.J. watched him. His hunch felt like it was getting louder now, the very air buzzing with it. 

He looked down at his feet, and saw he was standing on a copper plaque.  
"Here lies Pepe," he read out, "unless otherwise activated." He looked towards Todd. "That was the name of Spring's rhino. Patrick Spring -- so he's been down here. He must have left us the crank -- he wanted us to find ourselves here." He felt hopeful, pushing on the plaque -- and the lights turned on. The door clicked unlocked, and C.J. smirked. 

His hunch was still sounding, but he ignored it. It was just being slow. At least, that's what he told himself as he strode over to the door. 

The eyes of the rhino sculpture glowed blue, and then pain shot through him -- a familiar agony from when he guessed the wrong number, but sharper, fiercer. He could feel fire breaking out across him as sparks danced across his skin, and he fell backwards, gasping for air. He could hear Todd screaming as well, both trying to pull off their burning clothes.

He got to his feet, and Todd stared at him.  
"What was that thing?"

"Pepe!" C.J. answered, trying to work it out. "His energy. Some kind of electrical ghost rhino--" He tried to make that fit with everything else that he knew. 

"How do we get out of here?" Todd asked, looking to C.J. for help. 

C.J. looked towards the statue and felt helpless. He had no idea what the answer was going to be. He didn't know how they could survive this. It was all his fault.

***

Mona sat on the floor of the van, bouncing slightly. She was being human shaped for a little while, because Vogel was awake and wanted a friend, and she could be a friend. She liked being a friend. The other members of the Rowdy Four had gone away, because Martin had had a hunch, but they'd be back soon. She was sure that they'd be back soon.

Until they were back, it was her job to look after Vogel. She could do that, because Vogel needed her.  
Vogel was tucked up under a blanket, curled in the corner of the vehicle, his arms around himself. He looked tired still. He always looked tired. He had looked afraid ever since the breakout, but he was doing better. He'd move around the van now, and if she told him before she tried for a hug he wouldn't start to breathe too fast, like he'd forgotten what speed he was meant to be at and was trying to be a mouse instead. That was good.

"Hello!" Mona said softly. He looked at her, his eyes unfocused, before slowly he began to smile.

"Mona," he beamed. "You're... you're here!"

"I am!" she agreed, delighted by him acknowledging her. When they had first broken out, he hadn't seemed to see the outside world at all, just lying limp in Gripps's arms. After a week he'd begun to notice Martin, and the rest of the Rowdies, but she was the last he'd been able to talk to. That made him talking to her now extra special.

He was glancing around uncertainly, so she reached out and placed a hand on his arm.  
"They'll be back soon," she promised him. "And they said they'd bring food, so they will. I promise."  
He nodded slowly, looking at her with nervous hope, and she smiled back at him.

***

Connecting the horn by their touch had been terrifying, but it kept them alive -- and it proved C.J. was right that the horn was important. More than that -- Todd had asked C.J. to trust him, and C.J. had. That was a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. C.J. thought that through as he pulled on his clothes. 

Todd was panting slightly, a grin on his face from their success as they headed through the door, preparing for another challenge.

"How did you know that would work?"

"Conductivity," Todd answered. "Connect the rhino to the horn."

"Do you have a lot of secret scientific knowledge that you aren't sharing?"

"I used to play the electric guitar," Todd answered him, and C.J. paused for a moment, trying to think that through.

"How many times have you electrocuted yourself?"

"Enough." With that, Todd headed through into the next room, leaving C.J. to follow in his wake.

They crawled through further tunnels, until they reached a larger room. Todd hesitated, glancing around.  
"Is it a puzzle?" C.J. asked, half frightened and half hopeful.

"Um, Dirk, I don't know about this one," Todd muttered. Behind them, the door closed and a bolt clicked into place.

"Oh Jesus." Todd looked around in panic. "What if there are a hundred more rooms like this?"

C.J. considered, walking closer to the wall.  
"I don't think so. The brick..." It looked familiar somehow. 

Todd raced forwards.  
"The Ridgely! It led us all the way back!"

C.J. smiled to himself. They were going to escape after all.  
"Everything is connected, and I think this is the end."

"The end?" Todd asked, and C.J. smiled at him triumphantly, walking over to a strange device against the wall.

"There was one just like this in the secret lab Todd. The plug -- it's the same thing. It must be what allowed Edgar Spring to power Springsborough -- but that's not what it's doing now." He looked around, half-expecting an answer to appear, but none was forthcoming. He leaned in, and then something whirred to life. He turned, finding himself faced by an array of brightly coloured screens, covered in different symbols -- animals, figures, tools.

"What does this mean?" Todd asked, and C.J. shrugged.

"I have no idea." That was a lie, another among so many he had told Todd. Because symbols were already jumping out at him, and he was beginning to see how his secret code could have ended up in this maze -- the same way that he could have seen himself, how Patrick Spring could have given Farah that word.

This entire thing was a time loop. It had been from the very start -- he and Todd were destined to know each other, they always were, because somehow this loop was fixed. Past him had already been here, and future him would be here one day. This would keep happening, over and over for an eternity, and he wondered if the past him was free from Blackwing now. If his future self would be one day -- if he would be himself one day. It felt almost too much to hope for, but he couldn't help wanting it, desperately. He was destined to meet Todd. He would always ensure it for his past self -- always give himself Todd, and always say the word to get him contemplating freedom.

"Dirk?" Todd asked, and C.J. stepped towards the screens, his head racing. He reached out to the screens. Kitten. Shark. 

"How did you?"

"Kitten and the shark. Of course, so that means--"

"Of course, what of course--"

"Dog--" C.J. scanned the images. "Girl. This makes sense."

"It does?" Todd asked, and the screens changed, the images replaced by numbers.

"It did until right now--" He thought of the envelope Farah had been given, and reached out to touch the screens again.  
There were so many numbers. But he'd given himself the answer before.  
"One, three! Three questions, one answer." Again the screens changed.

"How could you possibly have known that?" Todd asked, but C.J. couldn't answer that. Instead, he stared at the new images.

"It's a map." He smiled and then something frazzled, and he smelt smoke. A sudden spark of light killed the screens.

"It's too damaged!" Todd protested, as the air began to flood with smoke. "The room is broken." 

"Todd, I'm not freaking out--" C.J. pointed out, then yelped as a sudden burst of flame licked out towards him. He stumbled forwards, gasping for air. It was fire, and he had to try and get Todd away from it but the door had locked behind them again. There was no way out. 

His heart was racing as he and Todd moved as far from the screens as possible. It didn't make sense. If this was a loop, then how could he be getting stuck? It wasn't possible but it was happening.

The air was becoming harder and harder to breathe, and Todd was screaming in terror, and he knew that he'd killed his best friend. It must have been possible to alter the loop somehow, and he'd got it wrong, made a mistake this time that had doomed them both. He should never have left Blackwing. He'd killed Todd.

"Todd, Todd is that you?" Farah's voice was a shock, but Todd was screaming back in response, and C.J. fought for air. Maybe they weren't too late, maybe they could be saved. He had to hope for that.

"Break through the wall!" Todd shouted, and C.J. tried to put his hand on Todd's.

There was a faint noise, and none of it made sense. 

***

Amanda could hear her brother screaming. She could barely breathe from terror, watching as Farah tried to break down the wall. She'd shot it but it wasn't going to be fast enough. Amanda realised with a sense of utter horror that she was going to hear her brother die -- 

And then there was a commotion on the stairs, and the three men that had pulled her from the parking lot were there. Two of them whooped and laughed as they smashed the wall, the third, the leader, crouched in front of her to try and calm her. Farah was trying to chase them away.  
"It's okay," Amanda reassured her. "I know these guys."

The leader nodded his head slightly, smiling as he reached his hand out, and a thin blue light left her body, flowing into him, feeding him. 

The other two men dragged Todd out, throwing him at her feet before they raced in again, pulling out Dirk, who was unconscious, between them. They leaned in, a far thicker blue light flowing from Dirk into them and then they dropped him and walked away, one throwing some chocolate at him, muttering to themselves.

Todd looked up at her in confusion.  
"Who the hell are those guys?"

She shrugged. She didn't know yet, but she did want to find out. 

Farah helped the three of them upstairs, and she grinned at Todd, listening enraptured as they explained their path through the death maze. 

"This is the coolest thing that has ever happened to you," Amandea encouraged. Dirk seemed strangely quiet, but she ignored that, just enjoying Todd's story. "You were almost burned alive. That's so punk."

Todd grinned at her, for a moment seeming to put aside his fear. That was good. Her brother was so often worried, and it was good to see him just having fun for once.

"You made it sound like that maze was made for you specifically," Farah pointed out. "That's impossible."

Dirk looked away for a moment, before he spoke.  
"I guess the traps were Patrick's doing. And he left notes that weren't… weren't for us. So it must be for someone else."

"Maybe it was for you?" Todd suggested. "He knew you. Maybe we did something wrong."

"Exactly!" Dirk said, a little too brightly. "What about the map?"

"What about the map? The map to the power mode?" Amanda asked brightly, with a sudden hope that she could actually be useful. A good thing about being trapped in the house was she'd looked at maps a lot, and she wanted to stay involved in what was going on here. This was a way of doing it, of making herself useful even if she wasn't able to go charging through death mazes. 

"It showed up right before the place started to blow. It was just a second but--"

"There was a map?" Amanda interrupted. "On a bunch of screens?" She thought of the images that had flashed through her mind as she lay on the ground in the parking lot. She had seen a map then. 

"Yes. Only for a second," Dirk told her, and Amanda smiled at them, feeling excited. There was something she could do, she was sure of it. It almost felt like fate was pulling her along, guiding her back down into the basement.

"There's something here. A socket--" she explained, approaching the device. Her visions were leading her here, and she knew that was impossible, knew that it couldn't be -- but it was.

"Will this fit?" Dirk asked, holding up a handle, and it did fit. Of course it fit. Everything was sliding into place. She cranked the handle, and the screens flickered to life. On them, a map appeared.

"How did you know to do that?" Dirk asked, and she shrugged, thinking of him.

"Hunch." 

"Wildly suspicious," he muttered, but he didn't challenge her directly

"And yours aren't?" she asked, and Dirk fell silent, staring at the screen.

"Save her C.J. and Todd." After a moment, the screen flickered, and now it read "Save her Dirk and Todd", but Amanda knew what she had seen. Dirk looked terrified as he gazed at the screen, confusion and fear clear in his eyes.

"It's a treasure map," Dirk told Todd, and Amanda noticed how he only had eyes for her brother. She was happy for them, even if it hurt a little, to know she would be left behind again. "We leave first thing in the morning. It might be dangerous..." Dirk was smirking slightly, baiting her brother, and just because she knew he was doing it didn't make his actions any less impressive.

"I guess we'll see," Todd said, and Amanda smiled. Even if she couldn't travel -- he could. At least one of them got to have an adventure. She was pleased for him.

"I want to hear all about it," she told them firmly. "If you can't take me."

"I don't really think--" Todd muttered, but Dirk nodded.

"We'll be in touch."

Amanda was glad that at least one of them seemed to understand how shitty it was to get left behind. She didn't think she would have wanted to be ignored entirely. Dirk was smiling, leaning against Todd slightly, and she really was happy for him. It was about time Todd had something good in his life.

She thought of the men that had appeared when she had needed help, and wondered if she might have something good in her life as well.


	9. Human

"This kind of stuff happens to you all the time, doesn't it?" Todd asked, looking across at Dirk. Dirk frowned, glancing down at his plate of food as though expecting an answer to be written in the ketchup dregs. He made a noise of confusion, and Todd continued. "I mean, weird things. Supernatural things." 

"What's weird?” Dirk asked, a little defensive, swallowing down the food he had in his mouth. 

Todd started to list off everything strange that had happened since they met, and Dirk wouldn't meet his eyes.

"I mean, that's weird. But it could have been a coincidence." Dirk didn't sound convinced, and Todd was a little startled by quite how bad a liar the other man was.

"No," Todd argued. "No way, you don't just stumble into that."

"Technically we did just stumble into that," Dirk pointed out.

"No... there was, that was weird. And there was that note, with a name, and everything -- you keep looking around, as though you think someone is following you. This isn't normal Dirk. None of it is. There's some kind of thing, like a power."

Dirk visibly tensed, his fork slipping from his fingers.  
"No, I'm a normal man, a normal detective--"

"There's some other thing. This holistic stuff is garbage, it's you, there's something about you." He looked at Dirk, who was trying extremely hard not to look at him at all.

"I'm not psychic. Drop it."

"Who said you were psychic?" 

"You did, didn't you?" 

"Did I though?" he smirked triumphantly, sure he had somehow caught Dirk out. Dirk wasn't telling him what was going on, and if he was serious about their partnership he needed to be honest. Todd was aware of his own failings in the honesty department, but that was different -- his own lies were big, but they weren't strange supernatural powers hidden behind the thinnest and most unconvincing of veneers.

"Just go back to complaining," Dirk suggested, his shoulders drawn up towards his ears. 

"No, no, no, we're having this conversation. Here, let's do an experiment," Todd insisted, feeling excited as he reached for a napkin, trying to work out what to draw. Dirk sat there, fidgeting.  
"You can tell me what I've drawn on the napkin." 

Todd began by drawing the cowboy hat, thinking of childhood cartoons, when Dirk interrupted.  
"Look, I can't explain it okay? I learned a long time ago that things don't always make sense the way people want them to. I accept that, and you're going to have to do that as well." He glared at Todd. "I don't care how good your stupid picture of a cowboy is, I don't have time for this now. We need to save Lydia." With that, he got up and walked out of the restaurant.

Todd watched him go, thinking it through. There was no way that Dirk could have known -- and yet he had. He chased Dirk out of the room, running into a waitress who managed to spill food all over him. 

He cringed, ducking away and then heading out to the parking lot. Dirk was sitting in a red jeep, and was already holding up an a-shirt decorated with an American flag. As though he knew Todd's shirt would be ruined. It took a moment for him to realise he recognised that shirt, that he’d seen himself wearing it.There was something very strange about Dirk, and the effort with which he was denying it only served to make it all that much stranger. 

Dirk grinned.  
"We're going to go off road. This car will be better. Now come on, we are wasting daylight." With that, he started the car, pausing for only a moment before reaching to put it into gear. Todd noticed with mild concern that Dirk appeared to be driving with his eyes closed -- he supposed there was probably some very good holistic reason for this, but as soon as the car started to move he yelped.

"Dirk, look where you're going!"  
There was a pause, before Dirk did as he was asked, looking blankly at the road. 

They had a long way to go. Dirk put on some music, and grinned to himself as he headed along the roads a little faster than Todd would have liked. As they drove, Todd considered the events that had occurred.  
"Dirk, we'll never find where we’re going. The map wasn't exactly clear."

"Well, Patrick Spring obviously believed in us," Dirk argued, and then carried on driving. Todd couldn't help envying the other man's pig-headed certainty, even in times and situations that most certainly did not deserve that confidence.

***

Amanda had gotten surprisingly used to the growl of the van. She expected to hear it, and when she did, she left Todd's apartment. Todd was off saving the world and having an adventure, and the least she could do was enjoy herself a little.

The door to the van opened as she approached, and she climbed inside, finding herself faced with the three men who had rescued Todd, and a younger man wrapped in a very fluffy blanket.

The fluffy blanket turned into a familiar looking girl, blinking at her. She was fairly sure that at one point, this girl had been a brick. She didn't know what to make of that at all, but apparently this was her life now. They were all staring at her.

It was the driver, the blond, who spoke, as he started up the van. He drove down the road, twisting to look at her and gesticulating with a cigarette.  
"You sure it was a safe idea to get into a van with a bunch of, uh, crazy strangers?" She knew his words could be threatening, but there was nothing threatening about him. He was here, they all were, and she felt safe. Safer than she had for a long time.

"Are you sure it's a safe idea to let a crazy stranger into your van?" she asked, and the other men laughed, with the girl giggling softly. 

"She totally flipped it!" one of them yelled, and then the older two men were laughing and whooping, and the driver whistled. The girl was perched forwards on her seat, looking at Amanda intensely, as the younger man cowered back slightly. One of the men grabbed a different blanket, placing it around his shoulders.

"Thanks," the young man whispered. He had to be her age, but there was a haunted youth to his face. He wasn't scared of being here, she was sure of that somehow -- he was scared of something else, something bigger.

She thought of the stories she'd read about asylums, about people escaping. It would almost fit with what she saw. Still, being kidnapped by crazy strangers beat being stuck at home. She thought of before, a time when Pararibulitis had only been a distant fear rather than a constant companion.  
"Look, this is not the first van full of assholes that I've ridden around in. Except I was usually drunk."

There was more laughter, and beer sprayed across her as one of them opened a can. It tasted awful, but she drank it anyway.  
"So who are you ...are you guys..." She wasn't quite sure how to ask if they had escaped from an insane asylum. It seemed rude. And she did need to know their names.

"I'm Martin," the driver provided. "That guy's Gripps, that's Cross."  
"I'm Cross," Cross agreed.  
"I'm Mona!" the girl said with a smile.  
"And who is--" Amanda tilted her head towards the other man.  
"That's Vogel," Martin answered. "He's... he's had a bad time of it."

"Oh..." She paused, thinking of when they'd shown up in her life, how they'd rescued her brother from a burning basement. "Are you all Dirk's friends or?"

"Dirk?" Martin asked with a frown. "Who is Dirk?" 

"He's a detective? Wears weird jackets, he works with my brother, the British guy, you did that zappy thing to..."

"Oh! You mean C.J.," Gripps said with a delighted smile, only to yelp as Cross poked him in the arm.

"C.J.?"

"Look," Martin said firmly. "If C.J. says his name is Dirk, then fine, it's Dirk. We can give him that, I'm sure of it. But he's not our friend."

"He's one of them."

"Don't like them don't like him." Cross muttered under his breath. 

Amanda glanced around at them, confused.  
"What the fuck is going on here?"

"Look, we just been following him around because his energy tastes so good, and he lets us have it." Martin answered. "It don't make us friends. He's just got gourmet panic, isn't that right boys?"  
There were answering whoops of laughter from Cross and Gripps, and even Vogel nodded his head slightly.

"His... energy? What, like... hippy new age bullshit?" That definitely wasn't the look these men gave off, but she supposed you couldn't judge a book by its cover and all that. They laughed in response.

"No."

She thought of the attack in the store, the blue light that had surrounded her.  
"Is that what you guys did to me?" she asked. "You like, ate my emotions? You've sucked the energy out of my nerves? That's..." She hesitated again, looking at them. Cross had thrown an arm around Vogel's shoulder, and he seemed to be leaning into it. "That's so cool," she whispered in awe. "Thank you."

"You catch on quick." Martin answered, swerving the van violently and with little attention on the road. "Now," Martin continued, "that thing you got, it's like a ...how would you say it? A buffet for us..." And he was smiling at her, and she was smiling back. She wasn't afraid at the thought of them eating her, even if she should have been. They were talking about eating her fear and pain and it didn't frighten her, because they didn't frighten her. They were laughing, and she was laughing. Even Vogel was smiling a little.

"So..." She hesitated, looking over at Vogel. "What's his story? What can help?"

"He got hurt, real bad." Martin admitted, reaching out to ruffle Vogel's hair with absolutely no concern for the road ahead. Amanda was beginning to think that their continued lack of a collision was down to dark magic rather than anything else. She didn't think she minded.

"Place we were before. Blackwing. It was real bad. Real bad." Martin drawled the words. "They thought they could use us like dogs, have us hunt down whatever they wanted. Only Vogel... he was a kid."

"Real small," Cross added, as Gripps gestured with his hand.

"He was only 124.3 cm tall."

"Too little to use as one of their dogs," Martin spat. "So they used him. Used him to hurt us. If we didn't play ball..."

Amanda snarled slightly.  
"They don't get to hurt him again," she muttered, and Cross and Gripps cheered their enthusiasm, as Vogel smiled up at her, a little brokenly. There were tears in his eyes but he looked happy. Mona had turned into a teddy bear on his lap.  
"You said Dirk works for them?"

"He's another one of their experiments. Project Icarus. He thinks he can control them, but he can't, he's just another lab rat for them, and he's going to be stuck there forever. So he ain't our friend, not one bit."

Amanda nodded, taking another sip of beer.  
"They aren't getting you back."

***

C.J. told Todd to stop the car. He had a good feeling about where they were. He grabbed the shovel, stepping forwards, Todd following a step or two behind.  
"Where even are we?"

"We're where the map tells us."

"I hoped you'd lead us to the right place."

"I did," C.J. argued, frowning a little. "We are going to find the thing."

"And what is it?"

"We'll know when we find it," C.J. answered. Todd looked at him with disbelief.

"You're a psychic."

"No. I'm… digging."

***

Bart was kind of bored. Being out of the base was meant to be fun, and having friends was meant to be fun, but it wasn't particularly fun today. Ken and Priest were too busy discussing things like moral codes and court martialling to worry about talking to her, and Jelly had gone off on some kind of adventure. So she was very bored, and she didn't like it at all.

They were talking across the dinner table, and she just sat, poking at her food with her sticks.  
"What's this?"

"Pork?" Ken looked at he.

"Pork?" she echoed with a frown.

"Yeah, Bart. Pork. Pig," Priest told her.

"So why do people call it pork?"

"So they don't feel guilty about eating pigs" Ken explained, before refocusing his energy on the food in front of him and the man beside him. She tried not to pout at the lack of attention.

Eating in a restaurant was different. It was nice. Then they were going to go back to their rooms, but Priest and Ken were going to have their room, and she'd have the room where Jelly should be. Maybe his little hunch cat would still be there. The hunch cat would be her friend at least, so that was a reassurance.

It turned out that the hunch cat was indeed still there, curled up on her bed. Her fur was strangely damp. Bart was happy to cuddle it. Maybe the hunch cat would really want to be her friend, wouldn't be more interested in words like usurpation which had too many letters. 

Hunch cat began to purr, and she held the kitty close.


	10. Saint

C.J. found it easy enough to locate the exact spot he was meant to dig in, his mind calling out to him the moment they reached the right location. He sunk his shovel into the ground with purpose, Todd standing beside him.

After a few moments, Todd began to help, and C.J. smiled at him. This was good. He wasn't on his own any more, he had help, and that was great. Help was wonderful -- Todd was wonderful, and he was so glad he had his company.

It wasn't as though having Todd around was necessary exactly -- C.J. had done a lot of work on his own, prior to this. But having Todd around felt good. It made a warmth settle in his chest, and he felt like he was doing something useful. Not just working a case, although this was a case. It was like working for a purpose. Working with a friend.

Todd watched him, curiously, and then there was a beep from his pocket. He stepped back and glanced at his phone, as Dirk pulled out a large wooden box.  
"Dirk?" 

"Yes Todd?"

"You said Cjelli was a name."

"It is. It's Romanian I think," C.J. answered, trying not to think about it, trying not to panic about the fact that Todd had got a message, and then had asked about his name. Maybe he'd just told his sister about the maze. Maybe that was all.

But the expression in Todd's eyes told him that wasn't what had happened. Todd looked sad, shaken. Afraid.  
"Dirk?" Todd hesitated. "What did you find?"

"It's a thing," C.J. said triumphantly, carrying out of the hole to show him.

"Yeah, you're not psychic," Todd sighed, but reached for the box, opening it and frowning. "So are we leaving it for the night?"

"Up to you Todd," C.J. answered. "I mean, there's the solution within our grasp, but obviously if you need the chance to rest--"

"Don't start with the zen master stuff. You're a mess too," Todd muttered, then shrugged. "Look, we can sleep in the car then keep travelling okay? But I need to talk to you about something."

"A good something?" C.J. asked hopefully, even though the look in Todd's eyes suggested that the answer there was no -- this wasn't going to be a good something at all.

"I... I don't know Dirk. It's just you keep saying that you're my friend--"

"Because I am your friend," C.J. insisted.

"Then why are you lying. You've been lying the whole time. I just... people shouldn't lie. Not about who they are, not about--"

"What do you know?" C.J. asked, a cold weight settling in his chest. He knew he should be arguing, but this wasn't something he wanted to argue about -- and anyway if he didn't know what Todd knew, he would only make it worse.

"Dirk isn't your name, is it, Cjelli?"

C.J. felt everything come crashing down around him, flinching at the name. He hated that name, hated feeling trapped, hated who he was and that he couldn't be the friend Todd wanted.  
"I... I would say I prefer C.J., but really I... I prefer Dirk. I like... I like being Dirk."

"You've been lying? The whole time? Amanda says you're with some kind of… evil government organisation that tortures children? That... you're not who I thought at all, Dirk. C.J. Whatever your name is."

C.J. blinked back tears, and it took a couple of moments before he realised that Todd was still staring at him, his eyes angry, and he looked scared. C.J. never wanted to make Todd look hurt.  
"No I..." He swallowed. "I am. I work for Blackwing. I've worked for Blackwing for over twenty years -- if that's..."

"But Dirk you're not--"

"I'm one of the children," Dirk admitted, and his voice broke slightly as he admitted that. "I'm one of them. I... I'm not psychic. But I am something. And they thought that they could use that. So they took me in, and I worked out pretty quickly that if I wanted to ever be allowed outside of a series of laboratories, I had to play along. I had to smile and work hard and be good at what they wanted, because if I didn't... If I didn't then I'd never be allowed outside. Ever. And eventually they made me an agent and they let me wear suits and I was... I was happy, because I could be outside, and I could work, and there weren't so many tests. And then... I couldn't quit. Because if I quit, there's no escape. There's no freedom, no end of contract. I just go back into the basements for more testing and I can't... I can't do that."

He was crying now, aware but unable to stop himself. "I couldn't do that. So I kept helping, kept cooperating, because it was the better option, it was so much better and..." He sobbed slightly, and felt Todd's arms wrapping around his shoulders. "And then some of the others escaped, people who had never really played along the way I did, and I was... I was ashamed that I hadn't fought like that, but I did it because I had to and... and I was scared I'd be in trouble for their escape, that it would mean more cells, more tests, and it did, for a little while, but then they gave me another case. And I met you. And I just... didn't want to be Agent Cjelli, or Project Icarus. I wanted to be a person, with a person name, and I... I'm sorry Todd. I lied to you."

Todd's arms were warm, and if anything they responded to his outburst by squeezing him tighter.  
"So when this is done? You're just… trapped? You're just giving up?"

"I keep... thinking about those trap rooms. How you solved them, but there's always another, and I think maybe life is like that too. Just an endless series of rooms with puzzles in and eventually one of them kills you." 

Todd stared at him.  
"That's dark and depressing." 

C.J. shrugged. "Giving up is certainly an answer I suppose, and it'd certainly be easier, but it's an easy road to nowhere. What if I can do this? What if I can get out, but I have to try?"

"Alright," Todd sighed. "I... I can't say that I understand, or that I forgive you, because I don't. But... I can try. For now."

"That's all... all I can ask," C.J. said softly. He liked who he was with Todd. He didn't want to give that up.

"So what do you want me to call you Cjelli? C.J.?"

"Actually..." Dirk hesitated for a moment. "I think I'd like it if you could call me Dirk."

Todd considered, then looked at him and nodded slowly.  
"Okay Dirk. It's nice to meet you."

"It's good to meet you too Todd. I think we're going to get on very well."

***

Amanda was delighted to find that riding around with the Rowdy Four was fun, more fun than she had had for years. They were loud, and enthusiastic and they treated her like one of them. Even Vogel seemed to be warming to her, reaching out at one point with his hand to pull a thin blue line of energy towards him. She'd given it happily, and he'd smiled at her. 

Todd hadn't responded other than a brief 'Ok' when she'd let him know about Dirk's identity. She tried not to worry about that, but as the day shifted into evening she started to feel a bit uncomfortable around the entire situation. Not with the Rowdies -- they felt safe, safer than she'd ever felt. But about Todd's distance, and the fact he had been lied to.

She didn't know where they were going -- they seemed to just be driving aimlessly around, but judging from the chatter from the guys, something was going to happen soon.

"You relax now Drummer," Martin told her, his voice a low growl. The van stopped, and Cross and Gripps jumped out, Gripps turning back to offer her his hand. Mona was a teddy bear on Vogel's lap, and it was clear that neither of them were intending to leave. 

Martin strode forwards.  
"Let's go boys. Show Drummer how we have fun!" He approached a police car, a wide grin on his face. She watched as he just walked up to it, climbing onto the hood and then up onto the lights, bouncing his weight there until they cracked. The sirens were going off and she couldn't help laughing. Martin howled in delight, and the rest of the guys swung their baseball bats, and she watched from beside the car, utterly in awe of them and the freedom they showed. She wanted it so badly. The three of them were laughing as they wrecked the car. 

Then Martin stared at her, flipping the bat in his hand so that he was holding the handle towards her. She was shy, but she walked forwards to take it, feeling powerful. Hope and excitement ran through her as she held it. 

"Go on." He grinned at her, then gestured to the car. "Hurt it." The guys were cheering their encouragement as she walked around, holding up the bat and then bringing it down, again and again, smashing the car.

She knew she was laughing, delight and adrenaline coursing through her -- and then she was screaming as nails burst from the wood, impaling her hands. She fell to her knees, the pain too intense to stay standing. 

The three of them stopped, walking to her, surrounding her, and she should have felt afraid but she didn't. Cross held his hands out over hers, blue light floating up towards him as the pain began to release her.  
"You're not gonna have to worry about that shit any more," he promised, and she was almost in tears, but it wasn't from the pain. She'd been right. She was safe here.

***

Dirk had slept peacefully in the back of the car, knowing that Todd was nearby -- that he no longer had to lie about who he was, that he didn't have to hide the truth about Blackwing. They climbed out of the car, and Dirk realised he missed the cat, but she was probably happier with Curlish looking after her. The weird cat would probably feel right at home with her.

"Ah… My back is killing me," Todd stretched. "I haven't slept in a car since my last band."

"When was that?"

"Six years ago now. It didn't end… perfect. I actually kind of messed it up, pretty bad." 

Dirk looked over at him and frowned, concerned, as Todd continued, telling him about the terrible choices he had made. It hurt, to think that some people couldn't see how amazing Todd was.  
"You know Todd, one thing I've learned... is that when I'm looking behind me, I can't see ahead of me." 

"Is that a metaphor? Dwelling in the past is holding me back?"

"No. Not in this case. I literally can't see over there, when I'm looking here, which is why it's good to have you here. Together we can see in two places at once." He smiled, and after a moment Todd smiled back. Todd shrugged.

"Wanna dig up some more weird crap buried by a dead guy?" 

"More than anything else in the world."

So that was what they did. The rest of their day was spent alternating between driving and digging, until there were a mound of parts in front of them. Todd crouched, fitting them together in different ways until he had constructed what Dirk could best describe as a thing.

"What do you think it is?" Todd asked. 

"Maybe Edgar Spring's unlimited energy device?" Dirk suggested, looking at it.

"Really?"

"I don't know, but if we can trade it for Lydia Spring I should think it's our top priority."

"Listen, Dirk, I've been meaning to ask you..." Todd started, asking about the top, explaining about what he had seen of the future, and Dirk just listened, his heart breaking because if Todd worked out what was going on, he was sure he would leave. Todd would slip away from him, because it was one thing to accept Blackwing and all they had done, and quite another to tell him about a timeloop that he didn't even understand himself. 

"I don't know," he told Todd, wishing that someone would distract them, but no one appeared to hold them at gunpoint or something equally useful. "It was just. A hunch thing, that's all. We'll... we'll work it out."

Todd looked at him uncertainly, before he nodded.

That was when a man strode out of the woods with some kind of crossbow, pointing it at them. A shot went over Todd's head, and before Dirk could think he was grabbing the knife he had taken from Curlish and throwing it towards the other man. He fell to the floor, screaming, and Dirk scrambled into the car, Todd carrying the machine and then climbing into the driver's seat. They sped away.

"Darn," Dirk muttered. "Curlish is going to be mad I lost her knife."

Todd looked at him, and after a moment he began to laugh, the sound a little hollow with anxiety.  
"You just stabbed someone and that's your concern?"

"Technically I think stabbing requires your hand to still be on the hilt, I think I might have impaled him--" And then Dirk was laughing too, and they were driving away.

"You did great," Todd told him when he had parked the jeep a safe distance away. "I mean, that was terrifying, but you did great." He was examining Dirk carefully, twisting his head from side to side to check for any injury that Dirk himself might have missed.

"Thanks Todd, you know for someone who constantly talks about what an asshole he is, you're a good friend."

"What, no. No, Dirk, I'm a terrible friend. You just project that friend stuff onto me because what happened to you at Blackwing was awful, and you have no idea what it would be normally, so you're just holding onto whatever you can find, but it doesn't... it doesn't make me a good person. You know what I was thinking about? When that man was about to shoot me?"

"Arrows?"

"Amanda. How, if I die, there's going to be no one to take care of her."

"You're a good brother, Todd," Dirk told him, because he could tell this was hard, could tell that it killed Todd not to be able to provide more for his sister.

"No." Todd shook his head. "I'm a shitty brother. I'm a shitty person. I was thinking about how if I die right now, I'll never have a chance to make up for all the stuff I've done to her."

Dirk frowned. All he had ever seen from Todd had been devotion when it came to his sister, he couldn't believe he'd missed something that major. Todd had supported Amanda, inspired her, and shown her patience and care in a world that had no sympathy for someone as ill as she was. It broke his heart that Todd couldn't see it.  
"Done to her? Todd, I think with both of you sharing the disease you supporting her has..." 

Todd pushed away, getting out of the car and walking to sit on the ground a short distance away. He took a few deep breaths, and when he spoke his voice trembled a little.  
"I didn't have the disease. I didn't have pararibulitis." 

Dirk frowned. None of that made any sense. He took a deep breath, crouching down beside him.  
"What?" 

Todd looked away.  
"It ran in my family. I lied and said I did so my parents would send me money and I wouldn't have to work."

"But why? Why not just… get a job or--" Dirk didn't understand it. He'd longed for a job within Blackwing, ached for a normal life. He didn't know how anyone would decide against that.

"I dunno." Todd's answer was quiet, his gaze towards the floor. "I can't even remember the first time I lied about it. I don't even relate to that person anymore. I just... I don't know." Words failed him, and he sat there utterly dejected.

Dirk approached him carefully, trying to make sure Todd knew he was there. He sat down beside him, feeling awkward, but wanting to comfort him. Nothing in his life before this had prepared him for this moment, but Todd was his friend. He had to try, for Todd's sake if nothing else. 

Todd curled up slightly, but continued talking.  
"When Amanda really got sick with the disease that I was faking, I realised that she needed the cash more than me so I said I got better, but it was too late. My parents had already run out of money."

Dirk wanted to fix this, he just didn't know how. He cleared his throat, thinking before he answered. Amanda deserved to know what had happened.  
"You support her! Maybe you could--"

"I couldn't. She thinks I was cured of a disease that she actually has. Do you know how many times she's told me that's what gets her through the day? That's what gives her hope. How could I take that away from her? So there's your assistant, friend, whatever Dirk. I am, and always have been a total and complete asshole." Dirk frowned, as Todd pulled away, returning to the jeep. 

Dirk continued to think about what Todd had said, following him to jeep. He climbed in, beside him, and took a deep breath.  
"Look. Back in Blackwing... I got little hunches about the way the universe works. And I never understood it. The hunches don't help me, ever. So I figured I might as well use them to try to help other people." He reached out, placing his hand over Todd's own. "But you're the first person who’s actually stuck around and helped. You're the first person who’s actually acted like a friend, whether you acknowledge it or not, and to be totally candid, I'm a bit sick of your bullshit Todd." 

"What?" Todd asked, staring at Dirk as though he'd just said something unimaginable. 

Dirk considered, and shrugged.  
"Well I just wish you'd stop saying you're an asshole. I don't think you are, so it comes off a bit cheap." 

"Cheap? Have you not been listening?" 

Dirk could have laughed at that. Of course he'd been listening -- he listened to everything that Todd said, he always did. Todd had that effect on him.  
"It's very easy to act like a jerk, and then say 'Well, I'm a jerk, so that's that', but it's not like being a bloody werewolf is it? It's just you making excuses for your excuses. I don't have any friends. I am always surrounded by bizarre and frightening states of disaster, and I am always alone. Even you keep saying you're not my friend. But since you're the closest thing I've had, I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop calling yourself an asshole." His voice was shaking, and he was blinking back tears. He didn't think he could handle it if Todd rejected him now.

Todd's and twisted, to squeeze his, and he realised that Todd wasn't going to reject him.  
“Look. Okay. You're right. When we get back in the morning we'll solve the murder of Patrick Spring, save Lydia and work out whatever the hell that thing is. And... I'll tell Amanda the truth. About everything." 

Dirk smiled nervously, wondering if he needed to let go of Todd's hand now. Todd answered by squeezing his hand a little tighter, until he looked him in the eye.  
"And Dirk? I am your friend." 

Dirk didn't think he'd ever felt happier than he had at that moment.


	11. Broken

The machine was put together, and it was time to go back and talk to Amanda, and Todd was feeling sick, and not just because Dirk was an absolutely appalling driver. He had lied. He had lied for years and years, and always told himself he wasn't going to be found out. But he had been.

Dirk had been found out as well, and it hadn't changed anything between them, but the situation with Dirk was different - Todd couldn't help feeling like 'trying to carve out the freedom I can from an evil government agency' was a more understandable motivation than 'I'm the kind of bastard who lies to his family to steal their money and leaves them broke and my sister helpless'. Neither was great, but one of them didn't make you a monster - and the other one did.

So as Dirk pulled up outside his apartment, he felt reluctant.  
"I… I can go and get Farah."  
"No," Dirk said firmly. "I'll go with Farah, and you can stay and talk to Amanda." He said it with such conviction that Todd hesitated, and Dirk saw that as a chance to carry on. "Everything is connected, Todd. Telling Amanda the truth is your next step."

"Is this some kind of universe thing? Like, if I don't do this now the universe goes all weird?"  
"The universe is already weird, Todd. If you don't tell her now, and we get killed later..." Dirk trailed off, but the message was clear. Dirk was going to take the machine to the Spring Mansion, and Todd and Amanda could meet him there. It wouldn't be too hard, he could see the logic there. He tried to accept that. He was just going to go inside, ruin his sister's life, and then they could meet up with Dirk and pretend everything was normal.

He walked into his apartment, relaxing for a moment when he saw Farah there, and then feeling more nervous as she approached.  
"I... I killed someone."  
"It's okay, we killed some people too. Wait, what... are you and Amanda okay? Have you done something like that before?"  
"No. I've had a lot of training but..." She explained what had happened here, that an FBI agent had been sniffing around in an amazingly suspicious fashion, and he told her about the fact that he suspected Lydia was in the dog. 

"A dog? I just want Lydia safe. That's all that matters. But.... Amanda made some friends though. She was out most of the day yesterday with these four guys - she says they're magic or-"  
"The Rowdy Four!" Todd exclaimed. "Dirk was telling me, they escaped Blackwing, that's this CIA programme that Dirk works for. There are a tremendous amount of moving pieces here, we can't pin them all down now - we just need you to go with Dirk, and then Amanda and I can meet you there, and - " 

Farah nodded, looking a little calmer. They embraced for a moment, she presented him with some knuckle dusters, and then Farah was heading downstairs, leaving Todd to make his way to his room. He felt really nervous. He couldn't imagine this would go well, had no idea how to even begin to broach the topic. But he had to.

He looked around his room, thinking of everything that had happened in such a short time. He retrieved his lottery ticket, pocketing it as Amanda walked in.  
"Dude, shit has been going down!" she told him, a wide grin on her face as she embraced him. He embraced her in return, wondering if this might be the last time he could hug his sister. "Where were you? What did you find with the map?" she asked and he tried to work out what would be safe to explain. That wasn't what he'd come here for, but she was happy, and he didn't want to destroy it. He had to though. He'd promised Dirk that he'd tell her the truth.

"Farah is super weird?" Amanda told him. "I think I might have a chance. I spent all night with her - not like that, we were just talking, but… she is like this mega wackadoo basket case. Not that she's not great but I don't even know where to start." Amanda was smiling, and Todd looked at her for a moment, knowing he might never see that smile again. When he was sure that he wouldn't forget how she looked at that moment, he cleared his throat to interrupt.  
"I never had pararibulitis."

Amanda laughed, then looked at him and frowned.  
“What did you say?”  
“I couldn’t keep it a secret any more. I never… had pararibulitis.”

He watched as emotions warred on her face, confusion winning out. She smiled to herself, but there was an uncertainty to that smile that left him feeling hollow, a sickness building in his chest and slowly spreading.  
“Yes you did Todd. What are you talking about? You did. That’s why you dropped out of college.”

He could feel years and webs of lies spiralling across, threatening to overwhelm him. But he had to tell her. She was his sister, he owed her that at least. He’d promised Dirk, and he knew in his heart that he wouldn’t be able to keep lying for the rest of his life. Either way, he’d started this now, so he was stuck. He could hardly call the words back.  
He’d started being honest, he had to continue.  
"No, I dropped out because I was failing, because I never went to classes, because I was trying to dedicate my time to the Mexican Funeral."

“No.” Amanda frowned, shaking her head “No, that isn’t right…”  
“This isn’t how I wanted to tell you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for years Amanda. I shouldn’t have lied, I just… it was so much easier… I’m sorry-”  
“No.” Amanda looked shocked, still staring at him with eyes wide with horror. “That doesn’t make any sense. The Mexican Funeral broke up because of your pararibulitis.”  
“The Mexican Funeral broke up because I sold our equipment, and told the guys it was stolen.” He admitted.

She still didn’t believe him. She still thought that her big brother was better than this, that he wouldn’t lie about something this important. He hated her for that trust. He didn’t deserve it for a second.

“Okay but there was that time, with mom and dad when you were like-”   
“Well.” He interrupted, remembering that day. It had been so easy, to lay on the floor and scream. He’d seen his Aunt Esther’s attacks frequently enough that he knew what he was doing. He hadn’t felt shame about it, not until Amanda had had her first attack and he hadn’t even been there for her.  
“I wanted my own apartment and I needed first and last month's rent and the money mom and dad were sending for what they thought was my treatment wasn't enough so…” His voice trailed off, and he looked down in shame, taking another shaky breath before he continued.  
“I thought the band wasn't going anywhere, so screw them, and then I told mom and dad that they were just trying to screw me over."  
"You told me that," Amanda pointed out, her voice breaking slightly, and tears building up in her eyes. She’d never trust him again. But he couldn’t keep the lies. She deserved to know what had happened. 

"Yes. I told you that and I told them that my parents hated them. When you're lying, you lie to both sides so the others don't talk to each other.” His excuses sounded hollow to himself. “I ended up trapped under so many because it snowballed."

Amanda stared at him in shock, trying to walk past him, but he moved to block her path.  
“It… snowballed?”  
"I was being stupid." Todd admitted, praying she would listen, that she would understand.  
“You’re not like that.” She told him firmly, and it hurt, that she believed that. That she didn’t know what he was actually like. “You wouldn’t do that. You’re not like that-” And that was true, he knew it was true, he’d never do something like that again. If he could undo it, make it so that it had never happened, he would do that. But he couldn’t.  
“I’m not like that,” he said firmly, willing her to believe him, to understand. “I changed. I changed the second that you got sick, it made me realise that I… Well it doesn’t matter now, okay, because…” He had to do something to make it better. 

He grabbed the lottery ticket he had concealed, holding it up towards her.   
“Look. It’s $10,000.” He had to hope it would be a start towards fixing everything he’d done wrong, even if it didn’t make everything better, it was a start, a way to apologise.

“You’re trying to bribe me?” she asked, her eyes furious, her confusion giving way to a sick anger.   
“No. Look I… we can talk about this later.”  
“This… this isn’t happening,” she insisted, but her conviction had failed now. This wasn’t her being confident. This was her lying to herself, this was her trying to make this okay and failing completely.   
“This was stupid. This was stupid of me,” Todd muttered, angry at Dirk for getting him convinced that this was a good idea, angry at Dirk for making him think he could admit to lies and it would be okay. Just because he’d been willing to accept Dirk’s lies didn’t mean that other people would be willing to accept his own. “We’ve got to go. Dirk’s waiting for us with Farah.”

“What are you saying. What are you even saying?” Amanda asked, her voice rising anxiously, perching on the edge of hysteria. “This isn’t happening. I’m sorry Todd, but this is not happening.” 

She stormed past him, and he heard the lock of his bathroom door slam home. He leaned against the door, trying to get inside.

***

Dirk couldn’t help feeling like everything was falling into place. He’d done enough to know that was a really dangerous feeling, but it was so tempting to just fall into believing it, to think that for a moment everything was going the way it was meant to. He was stupid like that. He just wanted everything to be alright. 

Todd was going to talk to Amanda, and things would be better - she’d understand and forgive him, and Todd wouldn’t have to keep lying, and everything would be better. The case was almost solved, he was sure about that.

“So… what happens afterwards?” Farah asked him. “Are you going back to Blackwing?”  
“I don’t want to,” Dirk admitted. “I… I planned to just prove to them I can do this, so they don’t keep me locked up any more, but.. I don’t want to stay there. I want to be free. I want…” He hesitated, shaking his head, not sure whether he was making a mistake by telling her. Patrick had trusted her with that letter - and Patrick had passed on his message. He had to hope there was a reason for that.

At heart, Dirk had always been an optimistic person. It was easy to stay optimistic now.  
“I… I think I’d like to stay with you two. Set up a detective agency, help people... I don’t know. You would be really valuable though, you’re… you and me, we can be the strike team!”   
Farah started to discuss the practicalities of that plan, and he smiled. It was nice to imagine that this mattered, that this was an actual option available to him. That he could be free from Blackwing, and live the life that he wanted to. It sounded like a dream - it was a dream. He couldn’t do this, could just pretend for a little while, and Farah seemed to understand that.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” she pointed out, not unkindly.  
“That’s alright,” he told her with conviction. “Did I make some mistakes? Yes. Did I only make mistakes? Yes. But did it all work out? Kind of. I had a plan, and I put it into action, and it went off flawlessly. Almost. Mostly. Maybe it went off flawful-ish, but not a total disaster. In fact, an unmitigated not-total-disaster of the sort I'm thrilled to be in. That's what we'll put on the sign for the detective agency Farah. Cases solved with arguable efficiency." 

She was laughing, and he was laughing too.

He could feel his phone buzzing, but he didn’t want to look, didn’t want any of it to be real, didn’t want to have to engage with anything outside of this car and this dream. 

“You think that might be important?” Farah asked, indicating his phone. He thought. It probably was important, but he didn’t want it to be. He wanted to dream just a little longer. He liked being Dirk, liked being a detective, liked having friends. He hated the thought of surrendering that.

But he would, because he had to.

He pulled out his phone, frowning at what he saw. There were several messages, which he probably should have opened earlier, but he hadn’t wanted to.

_Colonel Riggins: Svlad, I’m not happy with what I’ve been hearing from Priest. Report back._

_Agent Priest: Where are you Icarus?_

_Agent Priest: You haven’t run away have you?_

_Colonel Riggins: I’m giving Agents Priest and Curlish permission to bring you in._

That last message was from forty minutes ago. They’d been held up by something. Probably the Universe. 

“I’ve got to get out of the car,” he told Farah, going for the lock. Her hand landed on his arm, an attempt at soothing him. He laughed hollowly.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“They’re coming for me,” Dirk said softly. “Blackwing. I’ve… I’ve been working for them but I… I wanted to work with you. It’s been fun…”  
“I’ve heard of Blackwing,” Farah told him after a moment. “I didn’t think it was real, I thought it was just… but it’s real?”  
“It’s real,” C.J. answered. “It’s real, and I was one of their projects and I… They trusted me, and I messed up, I tried to pretend I was a person and… they’ll hurt you Farah, you have to let me go, they’ll hurt you-”  
“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” Farah said firmly. “Patrick Spring said I should keep you safe. I don’t know what’s going on, I have less of an idea than you. But I won’t let anyone hurt-”

A gunshot sounded, and Dirk screamed, diving towards Farah. The windscreen of the vehicle smashed, and he was gasping. Farah grabbed her gun.  
“Get out,” she ordered. “Run ahead. I’ll cover you.”

He watched as Curlish stepped forwards. Her eyes looked a little uncertain, but he knew if he was close enough to see that, he was basically already dead. Logically, he knew that he should surrender. He should just give in, and try to keep Farah safe. But he was frightened. Frightened for Farah, and frightened for the loss of who he was beginning to be.

He ran.

He’d never been a particularly fast or active individual, not compared to other agents. His talents had always been towards the cerebral, involved in discovery and solution, not in exercise. So he tried to run, but he couldn’t get away fast enough. Priest grabbed him, and he felt pain flood him as the other man pressed a needle into his side. He collapsed as Priest grabbed him again, lifting him off of the ground - he heard a woman scream, and then he was in the air, being carried. 

Priest fell to the ground, and hands were wrapping around his wrists.

“Come on Dirk!” Farah demanded, and that was all he needed. He let her drag him. He wasn’t going to be able to outrun them, but it was working, somehow.  
“What… what happened?” he asked.

“I stabbed the woman in the leg. Not fatal, don’t worry, but it should slow her down.”  
“You… you stabbed Curlish?” Dirk stared at her in shock. “That isn’t possible-”  
“Are you okay?”  
“Emotionally? Certainly not,” Dirk muttered, leaning against Farah, who helped him towards their car and started to drive. Dirk was fairly sure they were breaking all the driving rules, but that didn’t matter, not if they were going to get away. 

She swerved to avoid an older woman, then hurried on with her driving. It didn’t make sense. No one got that close to Curlish and got away again, he couldn’t understand it.

“"You are an incredible person. You saved me. Who'd have thought?"   
"All part of the job," she told him, and he didn’t believe that for a moment, but he had to try and show her he appreciated it.  
“No it absolutely wasn't unless you're talking about your job at my detective agency."

***

Bart groaned in pain as Priest carried her back to his hotel room. Her screams went unnoticed, apart from Ken, who hurried to clear off the bed to make space for her.  
“What happened?” Ken asked.  
“She got stabbed in the leg.”

“I can’t be hurt,” she sobbed, howling. “It isn’t possible. I can’t get hurt-” She was crying more now, and Ken and Priest were watching her, Priest looking almost amused and Ken looking concerned. 

“What do you mean?” Ken asked.  
“I don’t get hurt,” she repeated. Priest came to sit down beside her, rubbing her shoulder as she continued. “I messed up, I ruined everything.”  
“You didn’t catch him,” Priest agreed, and she felt ashamed, but it hadn’t felt at that moment like she should. But obviously she should have caught him, because if she had her leg wouldn’t hurt so bad.  
“I left my path and this is my punishment. We’re lost. The Universe is broken…” She started to scream once more, and slowly Priest reached up to rub her shoulders.  
“It’s not totally lost Bart. I got a tracker on him.”


	12. Fixed

Amanda sat against the bathroom door, tears running down her face. She didn't want to believe this, didn't want to believe any of it. It couldn't be true, Todd couldn't have lied -- but he'd told her now, so either he lied before or he was lying now. She didn't want him to lie but he had. All this time, her entire existence, all her hopes and dreams and every last chance she had prayed for -- all of it was just some joke from her brother.

"Are you ready to talk?" Todd called out, as though it was that simple.

"I'm sorry, is this very inconvenient for you? I'm processing," she muttered. She never wanted to see him again. She should have just left the apartment, should have got away from him rather than staying here and now she was trapped, hiding in his bathroom and pretending that she was somewhere else as he begged her for forgiveness that she couldn't give him.

Todd was speaking again, and she didn't want to listen but she couldn't help hearing it.  
"I just... my god I really messed this up. I should have waited." 

She spluttered in disbelief.  
"You should have waited?! Yeah you're right. Six years wasn't quite long enough. Great prank Todd, but you screwed up the timing. That's what you screwed up." Anger bubbled inside of her, that he'd lied to her, lied to everyone for so long. "Look. Put your phone under the door." She'd forgotten her phone. She needed to tell someone, to expose her brother for the liar that he was.

"What?" 

"I'm calling mom and dad," she explained, sure he'd refuse, that he'd try and make her complicit in his lie. There was a pause.

"Okay. But, Amanda, we have to go meet Dirk and Farah, we can't stay here anymore. There are dangerous people--" 

She couldn't believe what Todd was saying. As though he wasn't the most dangerous thing here, the liar that had ruined her life. Who had teamed up with a CIA spy. The people Todd thought were dangerous -- the Rowdy Four -- they were kind. They'd taken care of her, shown her what she could do, stopped her being afraid.  
"I know, I met some of them." There were other people too, who were dangerous. But if she had to choose between Todd and them, she knew which side she was picking.

"Look, you're the most important person in the world to me," he told her, another lie through the door and she was angry, unable to believe he was still lying to her now. It was obvious he was the most important person, and she maybe came second.  
"What are you even saying. I don't know you. I literally don't know who you are. You are not my brother. You are some other person."

"No, I am your brother."

"Give me the goddamn phone. Right now," she demanded. There was a knock on the door, and then it was opened, and she could hear shouting. There was another man there, and the man was drunk.

Her chest hurt. She could hear the pipes gurgling in the next apartment along.

She was underwater. She couldn't breathe. Bubbles were escaping her lips but she couldn't get any air into her lungs, she couldn't breathe. She was gasping for air and the water was flooding in. She couldn't stop it. 

She was trying to breathe, and managed to scream, but no one was there, no one could pull her up from the water, and she fell backwards, kicking on the door, screaming and gasping and she couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe at all. She could hear noise but none of it made sense, not when her breath wasn't coming, not when she couldn't breathe, and she was going to die, she was going to die drowning in Todd's bathroom, and she was moving but it didn't help. She was still under water, and everything was going black. She was moving and she could hear noises but it was nothing, nothing compared to the fact she couldn't breathe, and then there was a familiar noise, an engine snarling down the road and somehow she felt safe. 

She was still underwater, but it felt like someone was reaching for her. 

She opened her eyes to pale blue light, streaming from her up towards the men, and she opened her eyes to see the four of them gazing down at her. Vogel crouched and cuddled her, then scurried back to the safety of the van as Martin helped her to sit up, Cross and Gripps keeping her liar of a brother at a safe distance.

"Oh thank god!"  
Todd ran towards her, and she pushed him away, scrambling to his feet.

"Don't touch me! You brought me here to keep me safe? Here? Into this? With you? You don't care about me at all." She was panting and only Martin's hand on her shoulder was steadying her. The three of them surrounded her, protected her.

"That's not true Amanda--" Todd was saying, telling her he was going to fix things, but she didn't want to hear any of it. He handed her his precious lottery ticket. She looked at it in disgust.

"Everything about you is a lie. I don't want your help. I don't want to ever see you again. You are exactly the piece of shit that everyone thinks you are."

The ticket tore to pieces in her hand, and she threw it on the sidewalk, seeing him scramble for them. She turned around to the Rowdies, the people she knew would keep her safe.  
"Get me out of here." 

"Amanda, stop!" Todd was yelling after her, but she didn't listen to that as she climbed into the van.

Vogel's face lit up to see her, and he patted the seat beside him. She settled down, and Mona appeared from under the bench, wrapping her in a tight hug. She wrapped her arms around Mona, sobbing softly into her hair. 

***

Farah had saved him. Dirk kept considering that, as he sat in the car, his gaze resting blankly against the glass, watching the world blur past him. Farah had saved him. He could have been hurt -- he had been trapped, Blackwing had got him, and then... she had saved him.

He wondered if this was what it meant to have friends. He had never expected to have friends, but he did, and it was wonderful. Everything was going well. Farah cared about him, and then there was Todd -- Todd wasn't here, but that was because Todd was repairing things with his sister, and that would be good. She'd know the truth and they'd be happy.

"So who was that?" Farah asked, and Dirk laughed a little nervously.

"That was... that was Blackwing," he repeated, his voice shaking. "The homicidal dirt muppet, Curlish, she's like me... she's not like me. She's something else, an assassin. And that was... that was Agent Priest. He... He used to help me train... he's a monster. I... I thought... I thought they were taking me back."

"They don't get to take you back. I promised Patrick." Farah frowned, reaching for his hand. "I promise you. They don't get to take you back there."

"Thank you," Dirk said honestly. It was strange, this having friends situation, but he could see himself getting used to it. He wasn't sure that was safe, but it was tempting, to allow himself to enjoy this. He had someone who had been willing to protect him. "I appreciate what you did Farah."

"Yes, well..." She looked around, and frowned a little. "Todd should be here by now."

"Yes, but he needed to talk to Amanda. About some things," Dirk tried to explain, not wanting to give too much away. After all, Todd's lies were his own, and Dirk knew all about lying. He didn't want to share that if Todd wanted to keep it quiet, if it was his and his alone.

"Do you like Todd?" he asked Farah, wondering. He wanted Todd to be happy, and Farah seemed like she would be a good person to be happy with -- not Dirk's type, but then maybe she was Todd's. Dirk was fairly sure he wasn't anyone's type -- he'd like to be Todd's, but that was probably out of the question. They were destined to be best friends, and that was so much more than he ever could have dreamed of.

Farah shrugged.  
"He's brave. In his own unique way."

Dirk nodded, and Farah stared at him.  
"I like that he's there for you. That he's got mixed up in this for you Dirk... You should call him again."

"He's not much of a phone answerer in my experience--" Dirk tried to point out, but Farah stared at him. "Look, once we plug in the machine, it'll all sort itself out."

"You don't even know what it does," she argued. "You're just avoiding talking about Todd."

"I mean... I mean it clearly clarifies everything," Dirk answered, not wanting to overly think about it. 

She looked confused, so he showed her what they had found. She crouched down in front of it, and promptly turned it on.

"Oh, does it do that?" Dirk asked, staring at it. "We didn't see that one." Lights flickered up onto the screen, displaying numbers, and Farah was staring at them in turn. 

"Those are dates. This is the date Patrick was killed and this... this is when his wife was killed. What is this thing?"

"It's a bad news calendar machine?" Dirk guessed. Farah's expression suggested that this wasn't the solution she had been hoping for -- even if it was clearly what the machine did.

"What?" she asked, and he shrugged, pointing at it.

"It... predicts bad news?" 

She looked at him, and Dirk considered, thinking back through the past few days. He turned to Farah.  
"That man who was keeping Lydia prisoner, where does he work?"

"Gordon Rimmer? He works at the zoo, I checked," she answered instantly, and Dirk nodded. Todd still wasn't here, and that was making him nervous. 

"I think we need to go to the zoo, not to Patrick Spring's place. I... I don't know." He hesitated. "Call it a hunch."

There was a moment he thought that Farah was going to refuse, but then she nodded, and climbed into the driver's seat.

"Hold on," she told him, and she turned the car around, heading back towards the zoo. Dirk looked at her, and smiled. He did have a friend, and the friend listened to him when he needed her to. That was new. That was good.

***

Todd hated everything about his situation right now. He had tried to do the right thing, to talk to his sister -- and rather than forgiving him she had been angry. Furious. He'd betrayed her, and he hated himself for it, even as his mind screamed excuses he couldn't bring himself to say. 

And then those bald men had electrocuted him, and the world around him had gone black. Part of him was just glad for the relief, even if it was only temporary. Only when he had woken up, things were dark, and he felt afraid. He was on his knees, and something was over his face, and he was trapped, entirely. Then the hood was removed, and he realised he wasn't alone. Dirk was beside him.

"Psst." Dirk hissed at him, and even though he was furious he looked over, if nothing else to stop Dirk from making a scene.

"What happened? Where's Amanda?" he asked, and Todd could have punched him because Dirk had no idea. He swanned around pretending to be someone he wasn't, and he assumed it would work as well for everyone else as it did for him. Todd despised Dirk for that, but not as much as he despised himself. He never should have believed those lies, that this was repairable somehow. He'd ruined too much. Been too foolish.

"What do you mean gone?" Dirk asked, and there was real horror in his eyes. For all his obnoxiousness, Todd couldn't bring himself to hurt Dirk.

"No, look, she hasn't stopped existing. She's just gone. Is this where the universe was supposed to lead us?" Todd wanted to argue, to say it was pointless, but Todd seemed to be giving his question some consideration.

"Maybe," Dirk conceded. “Who hit you?"

"A detective. He's gone kind of crazy." 

Dirk nodded, looking down.  
"I don't know where Farah is. I thought we should come to the zoo, I thought that would make it easier but there weren't any clues, right until people appeared and they grabbed us both." He sounded on the verge of tears.

"She'll be alright. She's Farah, she's good at this stuff," Todd reasoned. "Are these guys going to kill us?"

Dirk hesitated, glancing between the door and Todd. "I mean. I should hope not." They were interrupted by an echoing tread approaching, and Todd was afraid, but if anything Dirk looked hopeful.

"What's..." Todd asked, and Dirk shrugged as the door opened.

"He's about to explain everything, he'll have the answers." 

Even with everything else that was happening, Dirk's enthusiasm was contagious, and he almost felt hopeful, until the man -- Gordon Rimmer -- spoke.  
"I've been waiting for you two for a long time." 

"What is going on? Who are you guys? Did Patrick Spring hire you? If not then what are you? Are you detectives? No, because you're a bellhop." That was addressed to Todd, who shrunk back a little, feeling frightened and frustrated as each question made it more clear that no answers would be forthcoming. 

"You were at the hotel. And you, you're who? What the FBI? No? Then how does the FBI figure into this? Who shot Ned? How did you know that Farah Black was gonna be in that apartment? I mean what kind of crazy coincidence is that? Where's the kitten? And where's my dog? Why did you burn down my house? Who has my dog right now? Is it the police? Do the police have my dog? Who beat up Ed and Zed? Was it your guys? Other guys? How many different sets of guys are there in this situation? How does Patrick Spring be in two places at the same time?" 

Dirk groaned in disappointment. "Nuts," he muttered. Rimmer looked towards Todd, expecting him to answer. 

Todd swallowed dryly before he spoke. "Sorry I can answer like, four of those questions total if I'm being honest." 

Rimmer stared at them. "But you were there! When Patrick Spring died, you were both there, you were both together." He turned, stepping closer towards Todd. "You were wearing my coat. This coat!" His words were accompanied by him gesturing towards the filthy white fur jacket he was wearing -- the one Todd had seen his other self wearing the day that had started all of this mess.

Dirk was still swearing at the floor, but eventually lifted his head, looking at the machine they had made. Todd could see the moment something fell into place and started to make sense. He didn't know what. He hoped Dirk could hurry up and decide, because they wouldn't be alive enough to do anything for long. The atmosphere was growing worse by the second -- this was the kind of thing where, had he still been in his band, he'd have lied and found an excuse to leave. But leaving wasn't an option now.

Dirk started to talk, far too quickly, and he understood none of it, but it clearly made sense to Dirk.  
"It's the same machine. Todd. Solved it. The dates, of course, it makes total sense in hindsight. Amazed I didn't get it. We've got to go in there." He looked past Rimmer, who was now holding out a gun, and Dirk seemed utterly unbothered, just lost on what he could see working out. "I can get us out of here. I've solved the case." Dirk looked so happy that Todd felt a momentary spark of hope.

"No, no, stop talking to him," Rimmer interrupted, waving his gun and sending Todd crashing back down to reality. "I want you to give me answers, now."

There was a bang on the door, Rimmer sent some of his men away, and Todd reached into his pocket, slipping on his knuckle dusters. He was afraid, but it was quite clear Rimmer was going to shoot them any moment. He had to act while he still had the element of surprise. 

He leapt up, swinging the brass knuckles, and grabbing the gun. He struggled with Rimmer, and ended up with the hideous coat around him. Before he could push it off, he turned to Dirk, seeing a man had grabbed him. He shot that man, and Dirk grabbed the machine. They ran inside, and Todd forced the door closed, his heart racing. He couldn't tell how long they'd have before the door was open -- minutes, not hours.  
"Dirk, what's the plan?"

"There's one of these in Patrick Spring's, and another under the Ridgely," Dirk explained as he fiddled with the machine, and Todd tried to hold the door closed. Todd wondered if growing up as a lab experiment ruined your sense of urgency.

"They're going to come in here and kill us, Dirk," he reminded him, not trying to be cruel but needing to be honest. 

"We won't be here Todd. Come on. Grab hold," Dirk insisted, and Todd ran to him, completely lost, but willing to believe in Dirk's hunches for once. 

Dirk continued to poke at switches, his gaze a little unfocused, just letting the universe or whatever it was make use of his hands. "I'm saving us," Dirk told him.

"How can you save us with an unlimited energy machine?" Todd asked.

Dirk's response was tangled.  
"It's not an unlimited energy machine, and that's not the soul exchanger, well they both are but they're not, too." Finally, he said something that made sense. "Grab tight." 

The door was buckling, under whatever was being used to break it open. He looked to Dirk in terror. Dirk responded with a brilliant smile.  
"There's not going to be a murder Todd. We're going to fix everything. Watch this." 

There was a sudden flash of blue light.


	13. Weaponised

Dirk couldn't believe that this was all finally fitting into place. A few minutes ago - or no, that wasn't right at all -- in six days and twenty three hours and fifty odd minutes in the future, everything had seemed hopeless. And now, now they were right where they had been, but not in the least when they had been. He took a deep breath, looking around and smiling.  
"I can't believe that actually worked."

"What?" Todd asked, picking himself up off the floor, and he couldn't believe it -- because of course, Todd didn't know what had happened, didn't understand the opportunity he had been handed. Even Dirk was struggling to grasp it. This was why he'd seen himself, this was what he'd had the opportunity to do. This was freedom, a freedom he had never imagined. This was his chance, a chance he'd never even imagined could be coming.

"What happened?" Todd asked. "Wait, where are we, are we still here?"

"For the moment, yes. But at the moment? No. We're in the past. If I'm correct, we're one week in the past."

"The unlimited energy device is a time machine?" Todd was asking, and Dirk grinned.

"Kind of a hunch, really. But the good news is right now they have no idea I've escaped. They won't know... they think..." He laughed slightly to himself. "They think I'm working with them. I _am_ working with them, only I won't be now. And that means... I'm free Todd. I'm free."

"What?" Todd asked, and Dirk couldn't help grinning. 

"I'm free..." There was someone approaching, and Dirk grabbed Todd. "Come on, hide." He dragged Todd out of the way, watching in vague horror as men pulled in Lydia, and a dog. 

The next few minutes were terrifying, as he saw the panicked girl get tied down, and then shocked by a machine that covered her in blue light, before spinning around and swapping places with the corgi that Dirk had temporarily stolen. 

Lydia was clearly distressed. Dirk wanted to help her, but they were outnumbered, and after throwing away Curlish's knife in the woods, he was unarmed. There was nothing he could do other than try and learn what they had done, with the hope of using it to help Lydia.

The man, Rimmer, approached, removing the tape from the girl's face, and Dirk felt something inside him sink, because it wasn't the girl any more. It looked like Lydia -- but it didn't move like Lydia. Worse, as he stepped forwards, she leaned towards him. Dirk was fairly sure that if she had had a tail, it would have been wagging.

Dirk thought that was an end to the weirdness, only to be proved wrong when further people arrived, dressed in strange robes. Some of them were familiar, and others weren't. Todd stayed tense beside him, and Dirk watched as the dog -- or rather, what had once been the dog -- was taken from Rimmer, and he walked out with the machine, yelling behind him, "I will be back for my goddamn dog."

Todd's hand had found Dirk's, squeezing tightly. Dirk was shaking, and Todd was shaking worse. At any moment, the people were going to look, and they were going to find him. Dirk hoped the universe didn't mean for them to get caught. He hadn't seen his past -- his current? -- self yet. That had to mean something, had to mean that the loop wasn't finished, that for now he was safe. He had to believe that.

The woman with marks on her face was staring around the room, and he was sure that she knew about them there. Somehow. It was only going to be a few moments before she found them. He was sure she'd kill them.

There was a sound from in the corridor, guns firing and people screaming, and she paused, turning towards the noise, her men heading out to investigate.

Dirk knew he'd lived a sheltered life, but he couldn't help being surprised when a strange mechanical man walked in, firing off a few shots and advancing on the woman.

"Are you the body that houses the soul of Jake Rainey?" His voice was human, and Dirk could almost feel his head aching as various ideas fell into place.

"What are you?"

"I'm looking for Jake Rainey. Are you the body that houses the soul of Jake Rainey?" 

She nodded, and he raised his hand, firing a gun at her. She fell backwards, her body going limp.

The mechanical man walked away, and then suddenly approached, grabbing them both.

"We're not with them!" Dirk said quickly. "We're with you."

"Who are you?" the man asked -- and Dirk understood. 

In his excitement he turned to Todd.  
"Don't you see? This has already happened, but there's still time--"

The man reached out, pushing Dirk back against the wall, and turning his gun on Todd.

Dirk couldn't let this happen. His future self had Todd so that meant Todd had to survive this. He couldn't lose him. He needed Todd.

"Who are you? What's going on here?"

"Dirk, who is this guy?" Todd was asking, and Dirk cleared his throat, thinking it through.  
"I solved the case. And this is Patrick Spring."

The man's visor opened, and he looked straight at Dirk. 

Dirk smiled back in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, even if he suspected he actually looked afraid. Still -- Patrick Spring had hired him. He couldn’t have done it just to kill Dirk -- couldn’t have gone to the lengths he had of recruiting him from Blackwing, putting up warning signs, causing Farah to give him hope, if it had all been a plan to murder him. At least, he hoped that was the case. The man still had his gun towards Todd, and Dirk cleared his throat, his voice coming out a little squeakier than he would have liked due to the pressure on it in combination with his fear.

“Please don’t kill us. I can explain everything…” There was a pause, before Patrick gestured with his gun for Dirk to continue. His voice shook a little, but he did what he could to explain the situation. The hand around his throat, and he gasped for air slightly before he started his explanation, setting out how Patrick Spring -- or rather Zachariah Webb -- had been trying to build a time machine, and had accidentally sent it into the future, only to follow it, become enemies with the group that would become the Men of the Machine, and fall in love. Dirk hesitated slightly, trying to work out where he himself fitted in -- and as he spoke he realised. This Patrick needed to go back in time after the death of his future self -- and he would be able to pass on the messages Dirk needed to see.

That meant the messages Dirk had seen had been left by his past self. And his messages would be seen by his future -- an endless loop of support, each time freeing himself, and it was incredible. He’d never imagined he’d leave Blackwing -- not until he had seen that he was free. And he was the one that would inspire that. He saved himself, and his voice shook slightly as he explained.

He continued on for as long as he could, explaining how Patrick had lost his wife, and then mad with grief just jumped forwards again.  
“Which is what led you here today. Is that basically what happened?”

Patrick was staring at him with confusion, almost anger. “How could you possibly know all that?”

“I got it all right?!” he asked in disbelief. He was used to hunches, to knowing a few things and stitching a narrative from whatever was left. He wasn’t used to this. 

“How?”

“Well it seemed obvious--” Dirk started, only for words to fail him as the metal gauntlet once again found his throat. “I have magic powers.”

Todd asked something that Dirk missed as he tried to breathe, and got a gun in his face for his trouble. Dirk could see something of Agent Priest in Patrick’s eyes -- this was a man who expected to be listened to, who didn’t like that things had temporarily escaped his control, and was determined to get the situation back to what he wanted.

“I did what I could--” Patrick explained, and Dirk nodded as best as he could, speaking at the same moment as Todd -- Todd telling him he wasn’t crazy, Dirk praising his decisions. Dirk didn’t want to see Todd shot in front of him. He was sure he couldn’t die at this point in the time loop -- he didn’t know whether or not that applied to Todd, or if the time loop was more complicated than he thought, but he wasn’t willing to risk it.

It was Todd who actually got through to Patrick.  
“We are not the enemy,” Todd told him. “We’re here trying to save your daughter.”

“My daughter? What’s happened to my daughter?”

Dirk hesitated, wondering how exactly you told a man that his only child had been soul-swapped with a corgi. There had to be a way of phrasing it that didn’t lead to both him and Todd getting shot in the face. He knew where he had to get to -- even if he wanted to run away while he had a chance, he had to try and save Lydia first. That was what the universe wanted him to do. He couldn’t work out how to explain what was happening in detail without being shot, so a lack of detail seemed like a good plan in order to continue living.  
“They’re taking her to the Perryman Grand Hotel. To meet you -- uh, the older you. But there’s more elements at play here than you could realise--” Dirk tried to explain it, but Patrick’s glare made him falter. 

Patrick slammed him back against the wall once again, raising his gun towards Todd who held his hands up in surrender. Dirk had to hope this wasn’t going to be the end of both of them.  
“Don’t get in my way,” Patrick snarled, before walking off, his armour echoing throughout the building. Dirk glanced at Todd, half-amazed that the two of them had survived that. Todd looked at him in disbelief.

“We’d best get out of here,” Dirk instructed, leading the way through the pile of bodies, picking up a knife, and encouraging Todd to grab one of the crossbow weapons. Todd looked uncomfortable, as though he had never seen a corridor full of dead people before -- Dirk supposed that was possible. Not everyone had grown up with Curlish.

“That man certainly puts the ‘mad’ in ‘mad scientist’…” Dirk muttered to himself as they walked away from the building. “I mean, I’ve known worse, but not normally quite so into engineering their own armour -- perhaps Blackwing would offer him a job.”

“Dirk, focus,” Todd muttered, but his hand brushed Dirk’s arm, and it was easy for him to believe that Todd was trying to comfort him. It wasn’t like Dirk needed comforting, but he still appreciated the fact Todd was trying it.

“Jesus, he shot the tires out--” Todd muttered, staring at the ruined vehicles. Dirk nodded, busy thinking about what happened next. He should run. He knew he should take Todd with him, and run as far away from all of this as possible. For now Agent Priest had no idea where he was. He could put distance between them, get away from Agent Priest -- and by the time he came looking he could have started a new life somewhere else. Romania perhaps, and maybe Todd would go with him -- only Todd wouldn’t leave Amanda, and Dirk didn’t want to leave Todd. 

Regardless, he didn’t want to abandon his case, not when Patrick Spring had gone to the effort of trying to save him.

They checked the other vehicles. All of them had had their tires blown away, revealing Patrick Spring to be quite stubborn about them staying here. The man was out there, clunking around like a steampunk Iron Man from those adverts that were everywhere, and there was nothing that they could do to stop him.

“You think he realises that this is the day he’s murdered?” Todd asked in exasperation. “I mean, the other him. God damn it, my brain hurts.”

“I’m still figuring it out myself,” Dirk admitted, wondering what would happen if you added an armed man in a full suit of armour into a high tension situation. The answer was nothing good. “It’s possible that this is why he was murdered.”

He could feel everything falling into place, slotting in like a jigsaw puzzle, creating an unchangeable whole, a solid certainty as each place clicked in with the one beside it.  
"Todd, three questions one answer, that's what it means. We got three maps that led to one solution."

"Zachariah Webb, Edgar Spring and Patrick Spring--” Todd murmured, and Dirk grinned because Todd was understanding, Todd was following this and wasn’t angry that Dirk had needed time to work it out. He was being an excellent assistant, helping everything fall into place. 

"Three men that are actually one man jumping through time."

Todd was clearly thinking through what was available, and coming to the same conclusions Dirk had drawn.  
"The unlimited energy device, the soul exchanger and the time machine?"

"Right. Three machines that are actually one machine existing simultaneously but out of chronological sequence." Everything was fitting -- and this meant what happened next was already dictated as well.

The problem with that was obvious when Todd interrupted him.  
“Wait. If this is the morning, Patrick Spring, the present Patrick Spring isn’t dead yet. Farah’s still being held by those creepy guys, and Amanda. Oh my God, we can fix it. We can save Lydia Spring and fix everything.”

Todd thought the loop wasn’t fixed. Dirk had no idea how to tell him it was, not when he was looking so hopeful, not when he was clearly imagining the chance to undo a mistake that Dirk had caused him to make. But he had to try.  
“Yes, that was my plan originally, to do that and then get away from Blackwing but--”

“We’ve got to get to the Perryman Grand.” Todd insisted, and Dirk opened his mouth to try and argue. Todd needed to understand. He just wasn’t listening to any of it. 

“Listen, wait,” Dirk pleaded. Todd was already racing off, and all Dirk could do was follow and hope that somehow they would survive this. 

He had to see this through. Rescue Lydia, return her to Farah, and then flee Blackwing, hopefully taking his best friend with him. He could see now, what his future self had meant. Why he’d looked a little lost in the hotel, why he’d thought that Todd might forgive him -- but that he might not. It wasn’t the confusion of seeing two Dirks. It was the way he was lying, the fact he couldn’t bring himself to destroy Todd’s hope, even if he was just setting him up for future failure. 

That knowledge continued to prey on him as they made their way through the zoo, with Todd being distracted by a gorilla mask, which he held in his hand.  
“It’s fate Dirk. It’s destiny. It’s a sign, these are all signs -- “ And Todd sounded so hopeful, so sure that things were working the way he wanted, and Dirk knew it wasn’t, knew that Todd was going to make whatever mistakes he’d made before. He just didn’t want to hurt him. He flinched, reaching for Todd’s hand. 

“Todd, I don’t think you’re thinking this through,” he pleaded, needing Todd to listen, to think about what was actually happening rather than letting himself be overwhelmed by what he wanted to be the case.

“I had a vision Dirk. I had a vision of myself, in these clothes. I’m ahead of you for once. My sister hates me, I have no job, my life sucks… but this can change something.” With that, he barrelled out with a giraffe mask on. He sounded so hopeful, Dirk hated the thought of taking that away, but he was afraid they were going to be caught, afraid of what would happen when Todd realised the truth.

Reluctantly, he took the gorilla mask and followed -- even if the CCTV recognised him, he wouldn’t be traced, he was in the hotel with Agents Priest and Curlish, which was a pretty unarguable alibi. Todd was continuing to discuss what he had worked out, how they had soul swapped the shark with a kitten, how they had stolen bodies, and there was such conviction there that it hurt. Because Dirk knew that they couldn’t change things, but Todd wasn’t getting the same information as he was from their situation. Todd thought things could be better, and Dirk hated that, because it was proof of how bad things were.

“It seems like a bunch of unconnected, spontaneous and unlikely coincidences, but it's not, right? Everything is actually connected." Todd was telling him, and Dirk wondered if this was just what happened around him. If he just ruined things, twisted people.

“You’re starting to sound exactly like me,” he muttered. He’d always thought his attitude was because of how he’d grown up, the influence of the Universe and Blackwing, but this was something else, this was him ruining everything Todd had because he was caught up in his own mistakes. Dirk fidgeted with the sleeves of his yellow jacket, and wished that everything was alright.

“Holy shit Dirk. I get it. I get everything.”

Dirk wished that he didn’t. Because he was risking Todd’s life and Todd’s sanity, because he’d got him caught up in this mess and he hated it. Todd didn’t deserve any of this, didn’t deserve the sheer determinism which explained so much and was so horrifying. 

They drove on towards the hotel.

***

Todd’s heart was racing in his chest. He could barely believe that this -- that any of this -- was happening. It was unbelievable but it was real. He’d been so convinced he’d ruined everything but now he had a chance to make everything alright, because he knew what was happening, knew he understood. They were going to save Farah and Lydia, stop Patrick from dying, and Amanda would never know his secret, not until he found a better way to say it, or she was recovered. He could fix all of it, and that delighted him, gave him hope he’d thought he’d lost.

For years he’d just been going through the motions, knowing that he’d never be able to do enough -- but he had a chance now, a real chance, and Dirk had given him that. Sure, a lot of his current predicament was down to Dirk, but none of it mattered because he’d be able to change things.

He parked, and Dirk was trying to talk to him, but he didn’t have time to discuss it. He had things he needed to do. Dirk was talking about planning what they did, but he didn’t care, they didn’t have time to plan. They had to act now, while they had the opportunity to change things, or else he’d be stuck forever suffering from his mistakes.  
“If we’re going to do this, we have to do this now.” He tried to explain the layout of the hotel to Dirk, but Dirk seemed distracted. There wasn’t time to deal with whatever panic he was having -- they had to move.

He looked down, seeing the lottery ticket. He reached for it, trying to understand.  
“I’m meant to have it… or wait…” He knew this had been destroyed, in the future, but it wasn’t destroyed now. At this moment, it was the very opposite of destroyed. It was whole and intact and undamaged. 

Dirk interrupted his thoughts.  
“Todd, never mind, you were right. There’s no time for this. Come on.” With that, Dirk was dragging him from the car, and Todd was fumbling his mask on, leading Dirk inside. On the way, he grabbed his own key so that he could get in. He held it as he hurried, thinking about what had happened, trying to work out what that meant. Because on the day in question, this day, he’d not been able to find his key -- the key he was taking. He saw his other self look for the key and come away empty handed.

His head was hurting from overthinking about the situation, his heart hammering as they climbed the stairs. He could barely breathe, rushing up them, cursing how unhealthy he was. He still couldn’t quite follow what was happening, but he knew he should be able to. He rushed up the stairs, his heart hammering in his chest. Something was coming -- this was when he saw himself. This was when the entire chaotic disaster that his life had been for a week -- or maybe hadn’t been, he still couldn’t work it out -- began.

Gasping for air, he followed Dirk into the room where Gordon RImmer, a few others, and the two Patrick Springs were waiting. Gordon Rimmer muttered in shock, but it was Patrick -- the older one -- that addressed them.  
"When you find Lydia, tell her I loved her. Tell her I'm sorry it never ended any other way. And good luck, Dirk. I'm sorry I hit you."

Dirk was trying to plead with the people and then, before Todd could say anything, there was a shark floating through the air, tearing everything in front of them to pieces. The shark had somehow come from the kitten, and he felt lost. He stumbled back, taking Dirk with him, and the older Patrick stepped in front of Lydia to protect her as he was torn apart. 

Dirk was grabbing him, and pulling him away, and he couldn’t think about what was happening, too afraid and overwhelmed. Patrick was still dead. He’d been meant to save him but he hadn’t been able to.  
“Come on,” Dirk ordered him. “Come on, we gotta get out of here, Come on--” 

Todd didn’t understand how calm Dirk was at this moment. They’d just seen people die -- but Dirk didn’t seem bothered by death. That worried him. He couldn’t understand why he was coping with this, why Dirk seemed to just be accepting what had happened..

Todd let himself be pushed, too disoriented to attempt to struggle as they hurried back down the stairs.  
“What the hell just happened -- what did he mean it always ended this way?” he asked, as they came face to face with a second Dirk. He stared in wide eyed horror, his mind screaming as he began to understand what had happened, why he had seen himself before.

“Listen--” Dirk was saying, looming over the other person. “This hasn't gone to plan, but this is your best chance, alright? We can figure this out. Sunshine."

“Mona?” the other Dirk asked, reaching up to grab Dirk’s arms, and Dirk was shaking his head.

“No. Look, we don’t have time for this, you need to figure this out.” They turned to him in unison.  
“Who is that?” asked the other Dirk.

“He's... He's your best friend,” his Dirk answered. “He's in the Ridgely."

"Dirk?” Todd asked, reaching for him, but Dirk pushed him aside.

"We don't have time. Listen. Three questions, one answer. Get the kitten. Don't let the cameras see your face." With that, he pushed the mask at the other Dirk, and the other Dirk ran away.

He’d seen himself. He’d seen himself before because he’d been here before. Because all of this -- he’d done it all before. It had all happened before, and it was happening again in exactly the same way. 

Dirk was dragging him on, but Todd didn’t want to go. Not with a liar like Dirk.


	14. Soul

Dirk tried to hurry the two of them along, his heart racing after his encounter with C.J.. He knew that Todd had worked out what was happening, but he couldn’t face arguing about it now. They were still being chased by multiple very angry people, they still had Patrick with them, and Lydia needed rescuing.

Todd froze, refusing to go on any longer. Dirk tried to pull him along, and got shoved backwards against a wall. Todd was practically snarling at him, his eyes wide with fury.  
“It was a loop. It was a time loop, you remembered that happening. That’s how you got the gorilla mask. It wasn’t a coincidence. That’s how you knew to get the kitten!”

Dirk hesitated, caught between telling the total truth and trying to spare Todd’s feelings.  
“I didn’t have any context. I just thought… I don’t know what I thought. But it was only today that I realised… that it was obvious.”

Todd didn’t seem to like him saying that it was obvious, stepping back and letting him move away from the wall. “Maybe to someone reading it in a book, not when you’re living it!” Todd was yelling, and Dirk hated that he was yelling at him, that he had somehow ended up being the bad guy here.

“We have to go--”

“You knew it was a time machine! You lied to me! You lied the whole time!” Todd was yelling, and Dirk tried to answer, only for Todd to interrupt. “Shut up. Don't you say a word. I don't want to hear it. Wait. Holy shit. This is when it happened, that means that--" Todd turned, and then they were racing down the stairs together. Dirk wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but he much preferred working with Todd than being yelled at by him. 

He didn’t know what was next -- but everything here was fixed. If they wanted to change anything, they had to move forwards again. He tried to explain that as they continued along in the stolen animal control car.

“Todd… we have to go further. We have to sort this out. Go back to our time -- “

“I thought you wanted to get away from Blackwing,” Todd pointed out. “That’s why you did all of it, wasn’t it? Because you wanted to escape and you didn’t care whose lives you ruined to get there.” 

“That wasn’t it,” Dirk tried to tell him. “I just thought… I thought we could fix things, and then get away, I didn’t know that… I didn’t know that it was fixed. Not then.”

“I don’t want to talk to you Dirk,” Todd ordered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Shut up.”

They drove on in silence.

***

Todd stayed in the car, watching as Dirk and Patrick talked. His head ached with the amount of what had happened, the knowledge that he had been so totally betrayed.

He'd been stupid to trust Dirk. Dirk who had played him all along -- who knew where he lived. Who had stolen the crime scene cat, and given him the t-shirt, and lied about where he got the information. Who had known everything, all along, and played him.

He wondered if this was just funny for the other man. If this was some kind of game for him, if he was laughing about it with the rest of Blackwing. Or if it was something that Dirk was doing because he was bored. He wasn't sure what the better option was.

Dirk kept looking over towards him, as though he expected him to fix this somehow. But he didn't want to go and help. Still, Dirk looked stuck, so he walked over. He didn't want to think about what it said about him that when Dirk needed him, he went straight to his side, putting Dirk's needs above his own. There was nothing good to be learned from that. 

This was all fixed, had always been fixed. But the loop itself ended -- Dirk had been right about that. Assuming there wasn't some second time loop, there was still something they could do. He continued to walk towards them, wanting to tell Dirk he would cooperate for a little while at least.

As he watched, Dirk backed away, and then Patrick lifted his hand, striking him. Dirk backed away, covering his face, and Todd took a moment before speaking.  
"Hey." 

They both turned to him, and he took a shaky breath, before he continued. 

"It's not over." He focused on Patrick, because he was too angry to talk to Dirk at that moment. "We still have time to save your daughter."

Patrick was saying about how they had fixed the machine, and Todd paid it little attention until he mentioned the note with Dirk's name had been covered in blood. He wasn't very happy about that idea, didn't want to have Dirk injured to repair this thing. Patrick was talking about using the machine to go back.  
"Where's your time machine?"

"Nuts," Todd muttered, as Dirk tried to explain that they had forgotten it, that it had been left behind.

"How could you be so stupid?" Patrick asked, and Todd stared at him in fury, unable to believe he would try and blame Dirk for this when Patrick was ruining everything. 

"Hey man, you just killed yourself," Todd told him, stepping forwards, getting into his space. "After everything you've done, you don't get to tell us how stupid we are." He took a deep breath. "I'm over it. I'm over this, how do you not understand?" He couldn't believe someone was being stupider about it than he was. This whole situation was fixed, and they couldn't change it. "You don't win. This is how it ended." He shuddered, feeling sick about the entire thing. He'd thought he could help, that he could make things better, but there was nothing he could do. It was all fixed. It was obvious. He'd never thought it would be, but it was, now. They were stuck in the same fucking loop as before. It was obvious.

They'd already seen the end.  
"I was waiting for some big complex pay off where you explain everything, but now I get that you're just as blind and crazy as everyone else. You're so obsessed with one mistake you made a long time ago, that you can't see all the people you've hurt along the way. You can't fix everything. Some choices you just have to accept, and try and rebuild as best as you can, so accept it." 

He was shaking now, but Dirk's hand was on his shoulder, and that helped a lot. It made it feel calmer, and he didn't want to think about that too much. Because it was easy to just say that Dirk was the bad guy here, but his company still helped.

Patrick apologised, and spoke softly about his love for his daughter, giving them a tube to insert into the machine and go to the right date. Todd was surprised when Patrick reached out and shook his hand, but returned the gesture. Patrick looked at both of them, before speaking to Todd.  
"Certain things can't be changed. It's you. It was you all along. It will always be you. Please save her."

"I will," Todd promised, and Patrick nodded.

"You... you need to ask for me-- for C.J. Agent Cjelli, in Blackwing," Dirk explained. "You have to tell me that Colonel Riggins is spying, and you have to leave messages saying 'Sunshine'."

"I will." 

Dirk was standing beside him, holding the tube for the device, and Todd felt some degree of hope. He didn't know why -- Dirk just inspired that.

"Never enough time to figure it out..." Patrick said as he strode away.

"Maybe make the maps less complicated or murdery or..." Dirk began, and Todd shook his head.

"He's gonna do whatever he did before."

After a pause, Dirk nodded, knowing Todd was right.

***

Dirk watched Patrick Spring walk away, returning to a daughter that he would never be as close to as he wanted to be. It hurt a little, knowing that there was nothing that he could change, and he said as much out loud to Todd. Todd who was still stood beside him, who hadn't run away the way he had expected. Todd who had been furious with him, but still willing to stand up for him when he'd needed it. Todd who despite everything, was somehow still being a friend.

He walked with Todd back down the pier, his heart racing. He wasn't sure if he was feeling hope, or distress. It was strange -- if this time loop had been going on before, did that mean his entire life was predestined? That everything Blackwing had done, everything that had happened -- was just always going to be?  
"He ended up trapped and alone forever." The way that he was always destined to be.

"I have to decide what to do next,” he explained. "I'd suggest contacting ourselves, but if we don't remember it, it didn't happen. I suppose getting away from Blackwing is still a priority, but we have to save Lydia first--" He paused, realising his companion was being rather quiet. "Todd? Is everything alright?"

"The master key was missing the day of the murder. Because I stole it. I understand now. And the lottery ticket I lost... I was the one who found it. I'm always going to be... everything happened exactly the way it did before. You're a monster." He looked at Dirk with broken eyes, as though he was about to sob. 

Dirk flinched slightly, reaching out towards him and then thinking better of it.  
"A monster? Come on Todd, you're overreacting." He tried to smile, and Todd didn't smile back.

Todd's voice was shaking as he continued.  
"You knew what was happening before you even met me. When Dorian died, when they tried to kill me on the bridge... when Farah was still being held in that room, when that FBI guy threatened Amanda..." 

Dirk could see now, why he was so angry, but it wasn't fair. He hadn't known enough to be able to prevent any of it. He'd only been able to react, rather than prepare, and things had only fallen into place at the end. He tried to reason with Todd.  
"You saw what I said to me. That wasn't enough to--" 

Todd looked at him in disgust. "No, no, no, when we were almost crushed to death, and electrocuted, and burned to death and shot, you knew that we'd end up here." 

"I didn't know that exactly. I didn't have any context." He had told Todd things he'd known, and yes he had suspected a time loop but he hadn't been sure, hadn't been certain, and time loops weren't the kind of thing you risked, they were the kind of thing you dealt with only when you were certain.

"When were you going to share that with me, huh? I just sort of thought you left things out because you were eccentric or crazy or scared or stupid. But you didn't. You deliberately hid things from me. You lied to me."

That hurt, and Dirk tried to argue, even as pain pierced him with the possibility that Todd was right. He attempted to defend himself, but his words sounded weak to himself.  
"I didn't lie. I just didn't tell you the whole truth because I didn't understand it--" 

Todd shook his head, seemingly stunned, and Dirk felt guilty, Dirk felt so guilty but he could hardly fix things now.  
"You're a liar, and you've ruined my life, just to have a friend. You deserve to be alone Dirk." 

Dirk wanted to hurt him, wanted to make him pay for that. The same part of him that made him answer back to Agent Priest led to him speaking against Todd at that moment.  
"I didn't lie. I think you of all people would know what a lie looks like by now." He felt like he was about to cry, and Todd was about to as well. He had hurt him. He hadn't meant to hurt Todd, would rather die than hurt Todd, but he'd done it anyway. "No, wait, that wasn't what I meant. I'm sorry, that wasn't what I meant." 

Todd stared at him, and now he was crying, a tear rolling down his face, and Dirk wanted to help but he felt frozen.  
"After all this is over, don't ever speak to me again Dirk." He walked away, returning to the van. 

Dirk watched him go. He wanted to sob, he wanted to cry, and sink to the floor, and scream. He couldn't do that. He made his way back to the van, sitting in the passenger seat and staying quiet. He'd done this wrong.

Dirk wasn't sure when exactly he'd made the biggest mistake. Because he was losing something great. Todd had understood about Blackwing, had listened when Dirk had lied about who he was, but now he had pushed him too far and it was all gone. Dirk ruined it completely, because he wasn't fit for company. Because the only thing he would ever be good for was being a Blackwing Agent. He stared out of the window, tears drifting down his face. 

He didn't wipe them away, not wanting Todd to know that he was crying.

***

The journey was quiet, and Todd led them through the bodies that filled the animal control unit. He hated the amount of death here, hated how Dirk looked unbothered by it. They made their way into the room, and Todd heard noises outside.  
"Shit. I hear someone coming. Get the machine. We gotta get out of here."

Dirk grabbed it, and the people were coming closer, and Todd was angry with Dirk but he didn't want either of them to die. Not here, not in some weird side room in a zoo where they would just be wiped from history, dying before they'd travelled back or whatever it was.  
"We have to get out of here," he hissed, realising that was doubly true -- he didn't want either of them to die.

Dirk looked at him, and for a moment he spoke like himself.  
"They obviously don't catch us Todd or they'd remember us in the future from the past which is currently the present… right?"

"What do we do?"

"We can go back to the Wild West?" Dirk suggested, and Todd looked at him. Dirk sighed and nodded. "We go back to the future and save Lydia Spring," Dirk conceded. 

Todd nodded.  
"Exactly. Like we promised."

"There was blood on that note Todd. What if it was my blood? What if it was your blood?"

"Everything is connected," Todd told him, and it was strange how hearing Todd say his words seemed to calm Dirk. Maybe there was an issue there -- he liked helping Dirk feel safe. Todd had to remind himself he was furious with Dirk at that moment. But they needed to get back. He threw the switch on the machine.

There was another flash of blue light.

***

Dirk found that he was back in the future. Free of the time loop. What he did now was undetermined, and his past self knew to start preparing for an escape.

"Where are we?"

"Back where we came from."

"Shit," Todd muttered, as the bad guys started knocking on the door again. Dirk really didn't like how much there were bad guys chasing them, compared to how armed he was. He didn't get to say that though, because a couple of men walked in, and one of them shot him in the shoulder, because that was the day he was having. He fell back screaming, and then Todd was there, pulling the bolt from him. 

As though he didn't want Dirk to hurt.

***

Bart looked up from where she was lounging on the hotel bed. Her head and leg hurt, her head from yelling and her leg from the knife. She made her way down the hall, limping slightly, and then knocked on the door to Priest's room.  
"Priest?" she called out. "Ken?"

"Just a minute darling!" Priest answered, and there was a pause before the door opened up, and Priest was stood there, looking at her curiously.

"What is it?"

"I've got a feeling we need to go now,” she told him. "All of us. Something's happening. And Ken needs to be there."

"Good work Marzanna," Priest told her, and reached out to pat her hair. She grinned widely, relieved she'd done something right by coming and telling him.


	15. Sane

Dirk lost track of time, lying in a cell in pain. He could hear shouting, knew there were people outside, but he had no idea who they were, what was happening. He wanted to do something, but he couldn't think straight, to work out how to make the hurting stop.

Farah reached him, and he looked up at her in a daze.  
"I solved the mystery!" he told her, and his voice shook a little. She told him to put pressure on the wound, and then moved away, going to Todd, and Dirk hoped that Todd was okay but he couldn't get up, couldn't get to him when it hurt so much. He was lost in his pain, lying there panting. He put pressure on the wound like she had said, and ignored the sound of shooting that was happening. He just lay there gasping for air, panting for breath, until he felt Todd lifting him slightly, dragging him away from where he had fallen. 

He was propped against the wall of what appeared to be a cage, still struggling to breathe. The world around him looked almost washed out, the colours faded around him. He supposed that probably wasn't good, but then nor was the fact there was still some kind of harpoon stuck in his shoulder. Still, he was alive, and that was Todd's doing. 

He looked over towards him, taking a few deep breaths to manage to gather the strength to speak. "You saved me."

"Don't rub it in," Todd muttered, and he was being grumpy again. But he'd saved him. Todd had chosen to save him, and that meant something.

"How are we going to get out of this one?” Dirk asked, each word getting harder. “Just another crazy situation... but I'm glad you're here. I mean, I'm not glad you're here, because you might die, but I... It's good not to be alone." Every breath hurt, and he didn't find it easy to listen to what Farah and Todd were talking about. Something about the night Farah had been kidnapped, how he had let her stay out in the corridor.

"You..." Dirk tried to speak. "You also knew... a thing." Todd glared at him, but this was his chance to not lose Todd, and he wasn't letting that slip through his fingers. Blood loss made him slur his words slightly.  
"I... I didn't lie to you any more than you were lying to Farah..."

"Yes you did," Todd told him, and there was such anger there, it made him flinch, and the movement hurt.

"I'd describe it as strategic no-truthing," he tried to explain, and it didn't seem to be working, but he had to argue for it. Todd didn't look like he found it very convincing.

There was the dog, and Lydia -- or the dog that was Lydia,. And he looked at the machine, and realised what had happened. The machine was destroyed. They couldn't repair it, not with what they had here, not without being an expert. He propped himself up, turning his attention towards the corgi.  
"I'm sorry Miss Spring. It was destroyed after this nice real detective shot it a bazillion times."  
Detective Estevez was yelling at him to be quiet, and asking for an explanation, and the world around him looked like it was blurring a lot. Dirk couldn't work out how he would be able to both give an answer and stay quiet, but that was possibly because he was getting a headache.

He tried to explain. "So, one hundred years ago--" 

That just made Estevez more angry, pointing the gun directly at him.  
"I want my reality back and I want it back right now." 

Dirk flinched, because he really didn't want to be shot with a bullet and a harpoon on the same day. He didn't think that it would be fair, really, to shoot him in multiple ways within a brief period. Before he could give voice to that, Farah had managed to take the man's gun off of him, and Todd took over the explanation, which was good, because speaking was getting harder by the second.

He listened to Todd's explanation, not actively contributing, but glad that someone was able to put what had happened into words, because he most certainly couldn't. 

He gazed up at Todd fondly, impressed by how well the other man was handling all of this. The entire situation was terrible, and yet Todd was supporting him. He flashed a thumbs up at Todd.  
"Fairly straight forward I think," he mumbled.

"There's still a way to save Lydia," Todd was saying, and suddenly Dirk could see how they could get through this. He was amazed that Todd had noticed it, Todd who had no abilities, none of Blackwing's training in how to solve situations, no history of torture -- and yet he had been electrocuted and was still coming up with a way to handle thei problem. Dirk wiggled where he was sat, trying to prop himself up better. 

"That's right. You've destroyed this machine and this plug, but there's another way. That... that's another version of the same machine, and I know where we can plug it in."

*** 

Todd kept an eye on Dirk as they headed to Patrick Spring's mansion. He didn't look good, even if you ignored the harpoon sticking out of his chest, which was something that Todd was trying very hard to do. Todd wasn't actually certain whether or not injuries there could be fatal, but it certainly looked bad, and Dirk was no longer standing under his own strength, relying on Estevez to carry him.

Todd tried not to listen to what Dirk was rambling about. He was struggling, that was clear, and Todd didn't want to listen.

"Todd, are you good?" Farah asked, and he could have laughed, but concentrated on walking.  
"The answer to that question is kind of long,” he admitted, keeping a grip on the machine as they made their way into the house. Dirk was pale, and he knew that the men led by Gordon Rimmer would be approaching soon. 

He wanted to tell Dirk that everything was going to be alright, but he didn't want to keep lying. Dirk had made him want to be a better person. 

"We need to go to the place with the stuff." Dirk muttered, his words still slurring, and more hesitant now. Todd was fairly sure he was losing him. 

He picked up the machine again, as Estevez helped Dirk.  
"If that is a time machine, can I go back? Save my partner?"

"Some things can't be changed." Todd muttered, wishing that it was different. That he could undo things.

The machine switched on, and Todd and Dirk tried to talk them through operating the machine. Todd picked up the corgi that Lydia was in, and together they moved them around, restoring the souls to the correct body. Throughout, Dirk’s words were getting less certain It was a shock, seeing how much blood was on Dirk's shirt. He was barely talking now.

Farah was clinging to Lydia, and slowly Lydia's eyes opened, staring at Farah in wonder.  
"Hey..." she greeted her, and they both looked so happy, embracing each other. Even Dirk was smiling. They'd done it. Todd had helped save her, he'd done something good, and nothing else would take that away. 

"Thank you so much," Lydia said to Dirk.

"We did the best we could for you," Dirk answered, and he was smiling, and Todd felt good. 

Then Lydia turned to him and frowned.  
"That guy threw me off a bridge."

Todd hesitated, opening his mouth to give an answer, and deciding it was too hard to explain. Todd frowned when he heard shooting.

"Farah! Wait!" he called out but she didn't listen, too busy heading up the stairs with Estevez to work out what was going on. 

The three of them were left in the basement, Dirk half-collapsed, and Todd exhausted. He wanted to call out, to take control, but his head was pounding. In the end, he decided he could sit down for a little while, and then handle it. No one would mind if he just took a moment or two to get his breath back first.

***

The van felt safe. Everything was falling apart, Todd had betrayed her, but Amanda was safe here, with the five members of the Rowdy Four. Gripps was painting her nails, and Vogel was sitting across from her, smiling shyly and cuddling Mona against him. Mona was a teddy bear at the moment, with neon green fur to match the nail polish Gripps was using. 

The van screeched to a halt, but Cross didn’t spill a drop of his beer, and even Vogel didn’t flinch. Gripps didn’t smudge her nail varnish, just looked a little more excited, like something big was about to happen.

“Any of you guys smell that?”

"What?" Amanda asked, as Gripps reached for a baseball bat. "What's wrong?"

"Something bad happened," Martin answered, tilting his head up and sniffing the air, frowning a little. "Something very bad."

"So we--" she started, and Cross reached out to squeeze her hand.

"We're going to go and sort it out," Cross promised, and now all four men were sniffing the air, trying to work out where they were going.

"You can stay with Vogel if you want, Drummer," Martin offered gently. "I can't promise you it'll be safe."

"I'd like to come with you guys. I'm good with a baseball bat." 

"You are Drummer. We'd be honoured to have you with us."

"Well then." She nodded. "Go on." 

The van turned, and she grinned when Gripps handed her a baseball bat. She tapped it against her leg, feeling her heart racing in a totally different way from when attack was coming. She'd lost her brother. She'd lost the person she trusted most. But she had them now. She had the Rowdy Four, all five of them, and they were willing to welcome her, to treat her like she was one of theirs.

"Hey, Drummer," Martin called out. "You want to drive this thing?"

She smirked and nodded, swapping seats with him. She was going to keep them safe if she could. She was going to fight for them, same as they were going to fight for her. The van raced along the road before they told her to stop, and Cross patted Vogel on the head. 

"You stay safe kid."

Mona turned into a human, nodding.  
"I'll look after him! You have fun!"

Amanda clambered from the van, the bat feeling right in her grasp. She was laughing, and the three men were laughing too, and this was where she was meant to be. She was certain of that. She was exactly where she should be at this moment in time.

***

Bart laughed, leaning forwards from the back seat so that she could stick her head through the gap, beaming at Ken and calling out directions to Priest.

"I think Jelly's there!" she told them, her eyes wide with excitement. 

Priest tilted his head, sniffed the air and then licked his lips.  
"Yeah, I think you're right. Think he's hurt pretty bad though, so that's gonna be fun."

"Why's it fun?" she asked. "Being hurt hurts."

"Yeah, I know it does," Priest answered with a smile that she wasn't sure was a nice smile at all.

"Oh, okay,” she muttered.

"We're gonna get Icarus back," Priest told her, "And then he's going to be going back into his cell, and you and me are gonna get some ice cream, and it'll be nice, does that sound good?"

She nodded slowly. She did like ice cream, and she liked time with Priest, but she liked Jelly too. She wouldn't see him if he was in his cell, unless she sneaked in, and she wasn't meant to sneak into places, because people didn't like her doing that. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a little bit sad about everything.

The van they were in came to a halt, and Priest was laughing now.  
"What is it?" she asked Ken, and Ken shrugged, pointing at the fight that was happening. 

Bart was delighted when she saw that Incubus was already there -- at least three of them were, and they were the ones she'd worked with before. They were laughing, and they were hitting things and making lots of noise, and among them there was another woman who had to be Project Lamia, laughing and holding onto a baseball bat that she slammed against a van.

Priest was opening the door, his laugh echoing, and he stepped towards Incubus.  
"Well, look who we have here..."

It was Incubus One who saw him first, stepping forwards to try and protect the rest of the group.  
"You ain't welcome here."

"Don't think I care about where I'm welcome, you know that don’t you boy?" Priest answered, and all three of them were glaring at him but they weren't fighting back.

"Who are those guys?" Ken asked, and Bart grinned to know the information when Ken didn't. She felt real smart, and she didn't usually get the chance to feel smart. 

"They're Project Incubus. They used to work with us, but then they ran away, and now Priest's gonna bring them back." That was going to be fun. They'd be in cells, but that was okay, she could still say hi to them whenever she wanted. She waved through the window at them with both hands.

They didn't wave back at her, which was very mean of them. Bart disliked how mean they were -- they were meant to be her friends, but they weren't waving at her, and that made her sad. 

She waved at Ken instead. He frowned, and then waved back, and she felt a little better because at least she had one friend who would pay attention to her. That was good.

Priest walked closer, and Lamia seemed to notice him, running forwards and swinging the bat. She didn't change her shape though, like she normally did, just tried to hit him. He grabbed the bat from her, throwing it away. 

Lamia screamed, loudly, and then Mister Priest put a knife against her throat -- not to hurt, but to scare her. And then she kind of went limp, glaring at him and saying words Bart couldn't hear, and then she was screaming even though Priest hadn't cut her even a little bit. The three guys in Incubus stepped forwards, reaching out to take her energy from her, in blue, and Bart flinched a little, looking sadly at Ken.  
"It hurts when they do that," she told him. She didn't understand why Lamia was screaming so loudly, and wiggling so much, or why Incubus was focusing on eating her rather than fighting Priest, because normally they were very busy yelling at Priest. Then Priest threw a grenade, and the air filled with smoke. She watched as the men Incubus had been attacking started to cough, and the three men from Incubus crumpled to the ground. 

Priest threw Lamia into the van, where she snarled and tried to climb back out, and said a lot of very bad words. 

"Bart, hold her," Priest ordered, so she did, reaching around to wrap her arms around Lamia and hug her against her chest. Cuddles were nice. Cuddles might help Lamia feel good and stop her being so shouty.

Priest threw in the three guys from Incubus as well, and handed Ken a gun.

"They try anything, you shoot the girl." With that, Priest walked away. Bart thought he was probably going to get Jelly, which would be good. She'd have five new friends if that was the case: Jelly, all three of Incubus, and Lamia. She smiled to herself.

***

Todd could hear the shooting coming from upstairs, but he didn’t know what he could do about it. He didn't want to abandon a frightened teenager or Dirk, who was looking worryingly close to losing consciousness. Todd couldn't lose him. Not yet, he still hadn't forgiven him. He turned to the machine, slowly working out what had happened. Patrick Spring had used the machine to travel into the future, because they had sent it back. He'd used the fixed machine to jump forwards, creating the time loop and fathering Lydia.  
"We have to send it back,” he muttered, crawling over.

"Send it back?" Lydia asked incredulously, and he was in too much pain to want to explain. "We should destroy the stupid thing."

"No," Dirk answered, and his voice sounded so weak now. "It won't work. It needs this, needs to go back to where it came from to start the loop again." He was holding out one of the tubes, and Todd pretended not to see how Dirk's hand was shaking as he did it.

"They put me in a dog. I watched him feed me dog food. I have been sleeping on the streets for a week. I was so hungry, I ate a rat." Lydia spat the words, her anger boiling over. Dirk let her speak, then said softly.

"If we don't send the machine back in time... you won't exist." Dirk looked close to tears, and Todd understood. Dirk had risked everything to save Lydia, and if they couldn't do this then it was all for nothing. All the pain, everything they had been through, would be meaningless.

"You're the centre of the loop," Todd tried to tell her. "It all revolves around you. This has to go back to your dad, so he can try and manipulate the future and eventually meet your mom and sex with her and--" He cut off talking when Dirk shushed him.  
"Everything's spinning."

"Yeah, still," Dirk managed to sound impressively sarcastic for a man with a harpoon in his shoulder, not that Todd knew what someone with a harpoon in their shoulder should sound like.

"You guys are both dying," Lydia told them, and there was a sadness to her voice that shocked him. Todd was aware, even if he wanted to ignore it, that Dirk wasn't holding up well, but he'd been telling himself he was alright.

"We're not," Todd said desperately, hoping that saying it with sufficient conviction would make it true. He didn't want to consider the alternative. "We're okay," he promised, and then the world was sliding sideways as he fell to the ground, and the shadows that had been building at the edges of his vision swam forwards to claim him totally. He fought them back as best as he could, trying to cling to consciousness as best as he could.

***

Dirk watched Todd fall. He could hear the gunfire echoing from upstairs, knew the loop needed to be completed. The universe demanded he finished it, even if it killed both him and Todd.  
"Lydia. Your dad did all of this to save you. He died... to save your life."

"Okay." Lydia stepped forwards, and Dirk was grateful for that, because neither him nor Todd was in any fit state to stand up. "What do I need to do?" He held up the tube, and she took it, placing it into the socket. "What do I do now? How do I like, turn it on or whatever?"

Dirk flinched. It was hard to work out, when he was in so much pain, but he had to do this.  
"Turn the krank," Todd instructed, his words slurred, and Dirk realised that nothing had changed. The machine that had come through was still the same machine that had been there at the start.

"Wait! No, no ...wait..." He whimpered faintly. "Machine's still broken."

"Shit," Todd agreed, and it was hard, it wasn't fair to ask this kind of thing when he was in so much pain.

In agony, he started to crawl across the floor towards the box, ignoring the pain as the movement jolted the harpoon in his chest. He had no idea how to repair the machine -- but he must have done it in a previous iteration of the loop, that gave him hope. He just had to stay alive for a bit longer and work out how to do this. He had no idea what was going on.

He was focused on the task ahead of him, searching for some loose connection or whatever that he could repair and make it all make sense. Lydia screamed, and he moved on instinct to protect her, lurching forwards and screaming as he felt something pierce his back -- another of their harpoons.  
"Really!?" he complained, collapsing, and he couldn't get up but one of the men had grabbed Todd and he was about to see Todd die, and he didn't want that. He'd ruined Todd's life enough, he didn't want to see Todd die for his flaws.

Everything was getting fuzzy around the edges. Lydia stepped forwards, grabbed the machine and raised it above her head.  
"Stop right now! I swear to God I'll smash this stupid thing into a billion pieces." 

Dirk knew she meant it, even if it cost her everything. He didn't want her to not exist, but he was amazed by her bravery.

"I'll do it."

"And what then Lydia Spring? What then?" the man asked, and Dirk realised there was no way they were surviving this.  
He'd failed, and he wouldn't be able to fix the break in the universe.

There was the noise of a gunshot, and it was accompanied by a laugh that Dirk had hoped he wouldn't hear again. His own imminent death should at least have kept him away from Mister -- no, _Agent_ \-- Priest, and yet here the man was, standing there in the doorway and laughing.  
"Hello Icarus. Your friend isn't looking well. Do you want me to just put him out of his misery?"

"No..." Dirk whispered. "I... you can't... please... I was just working the case. I was doing what I was meant to, you can't hurt him, please, you can't hurt him." His voice was shaking and he knew his shirt was soaked with blood.

"If you're sure..." Priest stared at him, a faint smirk on his lips. "It would be so easy--"

"No." Dirk stared at him. "Agent Priest, you can't..."

"I can do whatever I want Icarus, I thought you knew that. Not like you can stop me in that state."

"Please..." Dirk whispered, knowing he was going to pass out soon.

"Hey?" came another voice, one Dirk didn't recognise. A man walked to stand beside Agent Priest, his hand on his hip. "Bart said I should--" He frowned, then stepped forwards. "This is it. These bald guys, these are the guys that hired me. The day Bart found me?" He sounded excited, glancing up at Priest with excitement rather than fear, and none of that made any sense. "And this thing, this is the thing that they hired me to build." He looked close to tears of joy as he grabbed the machine from Lydia, a wide smile on his face. "Here..."

"Can you fix it?" Lydia asked, and the man's smile seemed to grow. Dirk kept glancing between him and Mister Priest, but Priest seemed content to just watch what was happening for now, to allow the man to work. 

"Yes. It's my destiny."

Todd had made his way closer to Dirk, staring at him.  
"Who’s that guy?"

"That's… that's Mister Priest.... I'm sorry. Farah's dead. And now you're dead too Todd."

"Always so dramatic Icarus. I'm not planning on killing you, and I get the feeling I shouldn't bring you in if you don't want that. You're doing a universe thing, better let it play out."

"Thank you...." He didn't know if he trusted the man, but he certainly couldn't be rude. "Please...can I have some paper, I need to write a note."

"We've got Mister Brotzman's sister though. She's with Marzanna right now," Mister Priest told him, as he handed over the paper.

Dirk bit back a sob, as he worked on writing a note to accompany the machine. He had no idea what it should say. All he could think of was the fact that Amanda was hurt. He scribbled a quick message.  
'Sorry. It's gone bad. Tried but same way. Will help. Save her, promise. Sunshine... Dirk Gently' The page was covered in his blood.

"I think I did it!" the other man was shouting, and then Priest was nodding, signalling for the man to leave. 

"Come on Ken. And Icarus? I'll see you around."

He walked out, and Todd turned to him.  
"Did... did he say he had Amanda...?"

Dirk wished he could say no.  
"I'm sorry Todd," he whispered, and Todd whimpered and reached for him, helping support him. "I'll do everything I can to get her back." He slipped the note into the machine.

He pushed on the crank, and Todd and Lydia came to help.

"On three," Todd said, focusing on the task ahead of them. "One. Two. Three."

He pushed as hard as he could, and felt the others do the same, and the machine burst into light. When he opened his eyes, it was gone.  
"Solved it."


	16. Normal

Dirk had half-expected to wake in Blackwing. But no -- when he opened his eyes, he could hear the steady beep of machines, but the air smelled wrong. Looking around, he saw Todd in the next bed, his skin unnaturally pale. Farah was sat in a chair between them. She nodded to see him awake.

"Hey."

"Hey," he muttered, and his throat was sore. "What happened?"

"I found you both unconscious. Todd's been in and out of it... he says that Blackwing took Amanda."

"I'm so sorry," Dirk whispered. "I never meant for any of you to get hurt because of what I am..."

"It's alright Dirk," Farah promised, and he wanted that to be true, more than anything, but he didn't know how it could be. He opened his mouth to say as much, but talking felt like too much effort, and he fell silent without thinking about it. It was easier to just allow himself to sleep.

***

Martin, Cross and Gripps never went this long. They normally came back soon, after they'd been in a fight, and shared the food they'd found with Vogel. But they still weren't back, and now the sun was shining.

Mona was being a fidget spinner for Vogel, who seemed distressed. He was shaking so much he kept dropping her. She didn't mind being dropped, but she was worried that he was so anxious, didn't know she could fix it. She didn't think a fidget spinner could fix much of anything. So she let herself change, reshape into a person, and give Vogel a hug. He sobbed into her arms.  
"Why aren't they back?" Vogel whispered. "I... I smelled... I smelled Him, I don't want Him here I don't want Him to hurt--" 

"I'm going to protect you!" Mona interrupted, looking as stubborn as she could. "I'll be fierce, and if he tries to hurt you I'll turn into a big dog and bite him or..." She frowned, trying to think of another threat. She was scared as well, but protecting Vogel was important. She had promised she would do that.

"Thank you..." Vogel whispered, and he was still crying, and she hugged him as best as she could. She knew she couldn't hug him as well as the Rowdies did, she couldn't be all three of them at once the way that they could be, but she had to try and give him some comfort.

"What... what are we going to do?" Vogel asked. Mona looked down. If Blackwing had taken their friends, it wouldn't be long until they came looking for the two of them, and Lamia didn't want to go back into a box, or lose her family. She frowned. Family. Family were meant to help each other, whenever you needed help, that was what they were there for, and there was some family she had even if the Rowdies had been kidnapped by Blackwing.

"Can... can you find Dirk?" she asked Vogel softly. "You... you can smell him, can't you?"

Vogel looked down, his hands gripping hers. He looked like he was going to cry, and she waited for him to say he couldn't help. Instead, shakily, he nodded.  
"I... I can find Dirk." He mumbled. "You... you're coming with me aren’t you?"

"Of course." She blinked, confused by the idea she might not. "But we can find him together, and then he's going to help us, and we're going to get them back and we'll all be together and happy ever after like in the stories!"

Vogel nodded, standing up. He wasn't very good at walking, so she wrapped her arms around him, supporting him and letting him lead. She could have been a car, and gone where Vogel wanted, but right now Vogel needed hugs. She didn't want to leave the van behind, but she didn't know how to drive it.

"It's not that far," Vogel told her, and the two of them began to walk. She hummed a happy little tune under her breath, trying to keep both of them calm. Vogel's hand gripped hers tightly, and she tried her best to smile at him. 

"Dirk will fix things," she promised.

"I... I miss the guys..." Vogel murmured, and she nodded.

"We'll get them back!" she told him. They had to get the guys back, the two of them needed them. She trusted Dirk.

She didn't say anything about the fact that Vogel had left the safety of the van without the other Rowdies present, not wanting to scare him or make him realise what he had done if he hadn't worked it out yet. Instead, she walked beside him, holding him close, ready to keep him safe if she had to. No one seemed to notice the two of them walking along in their matching black jackets, both with a four written on the back in red paint. Vogel still kept looking around, as though he expected someone to see them, but she had to hope they'd get there safe.

***

Ken was working at a computer, looking hard at a funny screen that was covered in shapes.

"Hi!" Bart greeted him, but he didn't look up at her. That wasn't fair, not when she'd gone to the effort of taking a shower and making sure she didn't look scary. She waved her hands in front of his face, and leaned to try and see what he was working on. He didn't seem to notice, even when the kitten mewled from its place on her shoulder. Priest had let her go back and get it, when he'd realised Dirk wasn't going to come for it. So it was her kitten now, and she loved it very much.

She frowned, trying to work out what was so interesting. There was lots of lines on the screen, and the lines had numbers on them, with a big grid over the top. There was a little glowing dot, which had Jelly's symbol on top of it. 

Ken seemed more interested in the little glowing Jelly dot than he was in Bart. She poked his shoulder, not very gently.  
"Ken?"

"Yes Bart?"

"What you doin'? I thought you being in Blackwing would be fun..."

"I'm just..." He hesitated. "I'm just watching someone, that's all. Priest and I can take you for ice cream later if you'd like? After he's finished having a word with Incubus."

"Okay!" She nodded enthusiastically at his offer. Ice cream was good but ice cream with her friends would be even better. "Can I talk to Incubus?"

"Probably best you don't," Ken told her gently, his eyes still watching the little blob that had Jelly's symbol on it.

She sighed, walking away. She wasn't sure why she felt sad -- this should be happy! She had her friend Ken working for Blackwing. It was sad that Jelly hadn't come home, but she got the kitten, and the kitten was nicer to her than Jelly. She just didn't feel happy. She wanted to feel happy, she just... wasn't. She sighed again, guiding the kitten into her arms and cuddling it gently.

"There's gotta be someone round here that'll be my friend," she muttered, mostly to herself, but the kitten seemed to purr its approval. That at least was nice. She hugged it again, then started to walk, her eyes closed, trusting the Universe to take her where she needed to go. 

Jelly always said it was wrong to trust the Universe like that but he wasn't here anymore, so she guessed what he thought wasn't very important. She let it lead her where it wanted her to go, focusing on the warmth of the kitten in her arms.

"You need a better name, sharky," she told it, and then smiled. "Sharky! That's a good name."  
She half-wanted to run back to Ken and tell him she'd named the kitten, but she was worried he'd think it was a bad name. Better to stay quiet, and just let Sharky know her name, than bother Ken when he was busy working.

She opened her eyes, and found herself standing outside Incubus's door.

***

Dirk was propped up on some pillows, taking a few shaky sips of water, when the door opened. He tensed, waiting for Priest to walk in or the shots to start.

Instead, a familiar face peeked around the door.  
"Mona?"

She raced forwards, pulling someone he hadn't seen before with her. She reached his bed and embraced him tightly, and he returned the gesture even though it hurt, because it was his sister clinging to him, seeking comfort he was able to provide.

"Mona? Are you alright? Who is this?"

"This is Vogel..." Mona introduced him. "He's part of the Rowdy Four... only the others didn't come back for us. They were fighting, and smashing things, and then they weren't there any more, and Vogel said it smelled like Mister Priest, and..."

Mona was shaking, so Dirk just pulled her close, moving over slightly, and addressing Vogel and Mona.

"This is my friend Farah. She's some kind of badass ninja lady, so she's going to keep us safe. Farah, this is Vogel, who is part of the Rowdy Four, who have been using me for food. This is Mona -- she's my friend, but she's been travelling with the Rowdy Four since they escaped, and I'm sure she's got all kinds of wonderful adventures to share with me, don't you Mona?"

Mona nodded quickly, and Dirk smiled before he continued talking.  
"That's good."

"But the guys..." Vogel whimpered, and Dirk reached out and patted him, not knowing what to say. He was aware that Blackwing probably didn't want to kill them -- but them getting out once had been remarkable. They weren't going to escape a second time. He didn't know what to tell them.

"We don't know where to go--"

"You're going to be okay," Farah told them firmly, reaching out and squeezing Mona's hand, then going to do the same to Vogel and thinking better of it. Vogel sniffled and nodded, and Farah looked at Dirk. 

"When you're better, we'll find a way to get them back."

Dirk wanted to protest that escaping from Blackwing on its own would be impressive enough, without breaking in to rescue people. But Vogel needed to hear Farah's lies, so he didn't argue with her. He understood now that not all lies were done to hurt. It was a difficult idea, but one that was nonetheless true.

***

Bart cuddled Sharky to her. The kitten was purring loudly as she stood outside the door, wondering what she should do now. She considered -- she was fairly sure she'd seen Incubus Two cuddling a kitten before. Maybe they would like to meet Sharky. She pushed at the door to their cell. 

It was locked, but it opened when she wanted it to, and she walked inside. The three of them were floating there in strange metal cages. They looked sad, and there were bruises on them. Their sadness made her sad as well, so she held up Sharky towards them.

"This is Sharky. She's my kitten,” she told them. None of them said anything, and Incubus Three looked like he was going to go to sleep soon, which wasn't very friendly at all. She pouted a little, hurt that no one wanted to talk to her, but rather than complain she just ducked her head, cuddling Sharky to her.

"It's nice to have you back,” she mumbled, twisting from side to side.

"It ain't..." Incubus One started, and then shook his head. "Girl, can you go and see if the woman they brought in with us is okay?"

"What, Lamia?" Bart asked with a frown. "Lamia's always okay, silly."

"That wasn't Lamia," Incubus One told her softly. "Her name’s Amanda, and she's not like us... I'm worried they're gonna hurt her real bad. Can you go and look for her?"

"Okay!" Bart paused. "You don't need to worry though, because Ken said Priest was talking to you, and Ken was looking at a glowing dot on a picture that's got Jelly's symbol on it."

"We're still worried. If you could help, that'd be good," Incubus One tried to reason with her. After a few moments, she nodded.

"If I get you down from there, can one of you keep an eye on Sharky? I don't want her to be scared if she's on her own."

"I'm sure we can," Incubus One agreed, and so Bart went to release them all from where they were trapped. The buckles opened easily for her.

The three of them stretched, and looked at her hungrily, but she held up Sharky. Incubus Two picked up the kitten, running his fingers through her fur.

Incubus One looked at her.  
"You know, girl, you can come with us."

"Huh?"

"We're not staying in Blackwing," Incubus One told her. "We got people out there waiting."

"But you're meant to stay," Bart protested, pouting, and Incubus One looked at her as though she had said something funny.

"We ain't staying girly, not here. You should come with us."

Bart hesitated, looking down.  
"I don't wanna be bad."

"I know girly." He reached out and ruffled her hair fondly. "I know. Come on, you can help us get our friend back."

She nodded nervously, leading the three of them towards another room. The door opened when she pushed it.

***

Amanda was curled up in the corner of the cell, trying to control her breathing. She'd already had two attacks, she didn't want to spark a third. The older three Rowdies had been taken away, and she had no idea where Vogel or Mona were, or if they were safe.

She heard someone unlock the door, and got to her feet. She had to at least try and punch them or something -- anything other than just sit here and wait for them to come and do evil science experiments or whatever shit people like this did. The door swung open and she snarled and raced forwards -- stopping when she saw who was there. 

Cross smiled, holding out his arms, and she ran to them -- Cross and Martin hugging her tightly, and Gripps waving from where he was a couple of paces away holding a kitten. She frowned when she saw the woman who had been holding her when Blackwing had kidnapped them.  
"What's she doing here?"

"This is Bart," Martin explained. "She's helping us rescue you."

Bart didn't look particularly happy about that fact.  
"I... I didn't think you were gonna go," Bart said softly. "I thought you were gonna stay here, and then you could be my friends forever, and it'd be fun..."

"We can still be your friend kid. Just come with us."

Bart nodded slowly, and then waved at Amanda.  
"That's my kitten." She pointed at the black ball of fluff. "She's called Sharky."

"That's a good name," Amanda responded, and was a little amused by the obvious delight Bart felt at that comment.

"Come on Drummer." Cross looked at her curiously. "You hurt at all?"

"No,” she answered. "I don't think so."

"Then let's get out of here."

The five of them made their way down long corridors, Bart at the front. Mostly they didn't pass anyone -- only when they did, Bart quickly killed them, and they carried on. Amanda didn't let herself look too closely at the bodies Bart left in her wake. They travelled on in a seemingly random direction until eventually a door opened and they found themselves facing a parking lot.  
"You guys should go that way," Bart pointed. "I gotta go this way. But I'll run into you some time. Bye." She grabbed her cat from Gripps and started to walk away.

"Hey! Wait!" Amanda called, and Bart turned towards them.

"What?"

"Thank you," Amanda reached over, and embraced Bart for a moment before letting go. "I hope we see you again soon."

Bart nodded, cuddling the kitten and walking away. Amanda returned to where the other three were waiting, squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath.  
"Shall we go and find Todd then?"

***

Todd woke up again to find that he was in a strange bed, and bright lights were shining down at him. A quick glance around revealed he was still in the hospital, Dirk lying in the next bed over, with a young man and a small enthusiastic puppy perched on the end of Dirk's bed. 

Todd blinked, twice, and the puppy remained there.  
"Uh--" 

"That's Mona. Dirk's sister apparently, she's a shapeshifter," Farah provided. "And that's Vogel, he's another Blackwing subject." 

Dirk snored softly, and Todd felt his lips twitching slightly in amusement despite himself. He didn't want to be finding Dirk cute. But Dirk was, undeniably, adorable. That wasn't his fault.

The door opened, and the three men that had pulled them from the burning basement walked in. Before he could respond to their presence, he realised who else was there.

"Amanda!" he called out, as Vogel was up on his feet and embracing the others. They were all bouncing. As he watched, the puppy jumped off the bed, rushing to Amanda -- and then the puppy had vanished, but in its place was a black leather jacket around Amanda's shoulders.

Vogel was being hugged by all the men, and then Amanda and her jacket were pulled into the embrace as well.

"Amanda! You came back?" Todd asked, incredulous.

"Technically we came back twice. We got out of Blackwing, but before me and the Rowdy Four came and saved you."

"That's the last time by the way,” the leader muttered, his arms tightly around the rest of them. 

"When you were at that mansion? There were like a hundred dudes out there and we beat them up. Dude it was sick. They'd have got you if we hadn't been there, and then... some guy kidnapped us and took us to Blackwing."

"He got you?" Vogel asked.

"Yeah, but we got out again," the others reassured him, one of them moving to talk to Farah. 

Amanda moved to sit beside Todd, on the edge of the bed.  
"Move over, loser." 

He shuffled over, and she paused, glancing over at Dirk.  
"So what's going on between you two?" she asked.

"Nothing. He's a monster. He knew we were in a time loop and--" Todd's words felt hollow to himself, but that was nothing compared to the way that Amanda was looking at him. He swallowed nervously, hearing his hypocrisy.  
"He ruined my life."

"Right. Well, we just came to get Vogel and Mona so--"

"Wait!" Todd called out, propping himself up on his elbows. Beside him Dirk stirred a little.

Amanda paused.  
"What, you have another lottery ticket? What was your plan with that anyway?"

"I was gonna try and… fix things. I thought I could use it to help us. To fix everything."

"There's some things you don't fix, Todd. Sometimes when you fall down, you fall all the way down. You blew it. That's just the way it is." She sighed at him, brushing her fingers over the black leather jacket and making her way towards the door, before pausing and looking at him, the four guys surrounding her protectively. 

"Here's what I do believe. I think Dirk Gently came into your life for a reason. I mean, two weeks ago you were a 33-year-old hotel bellhop, with no money and no friends, who spent all of his time lying to me. Now look at you. You're the badass partner to a psychic detective. And you're honest. Think about why Dirk lied to you. You and Dirk, you saved that girl. You saved that girl's life. No matter what he lied about, isn't that the part that matters? I'll see you around Todd."

"You're really planning to leave with those guys?" Todd asked. She stared at him in shock, gesturing to her shoulders. 

"Todd, come on, they already gave me a jacket."  
The four men surrounded her, and she walked from the room, reaching up to flip him the bird as she left.

***

Dirk watched the exchange, watched Mona leave again. He knew he'd see her around, but he was still sad she was going with the Rowdy Four. But she'd be safe with them, and that was what mattered.

Todd was looking at him, and he shrunk down slightly. He'd ruined Todd's life, nearly killed him. He understood why Todd must hate him, but it didn't make it any less painful.  
"Todd... Todd I'm sorry you're here, we can see about getting you another room."

"I chose to be here,” he muttered. "They said we could have separate rooms but I didn't want that."

"But the case is over," Dirk reminded him, and Todd shrugged a little. Dirk frowned. "Look, I don't understand. Did you want something from me or ... I can't help you. I can't do anything to help your situation." 

"I don't need help..." Todd answered, ignoring Farah laughing at him. 

"Then what do you want? Why are you here?"

"I'm here because I'm your friend. Besides, I don't wanna miss out on when the next case starts." 

Dirk took a few moments to try and understand that, before he reached out between them, squeezing Todd's hand. Todd squeezed his hand in return.

Farah looked at them, and smiled slightly.  
"Come on you two. We need to get a move on, apparently Blackwing's tracking Dirk."

Dirk nodded, taking a shaky breath. He wasn't Agent Cjelli any more. He wasn't even C.J.. He was something new. Something that might even be better.

He looked forward to finding out.


End file.
